1977 Lives
by hellokhaleesi
Summary: Voldemort continues to rise and Harry Potter falls... the Final Battle is fought and lost. But, far, far away in 1977, two mysterious girls turn up, fresh from a war yet to be raged, and find themselves thrown into yet another. (Hermione x Sirius centric)
1. I

Hermione sat up abruptly in the foreign bed she discovered herself in, only to fall back in a crumpled heap of pain. Even the gasp she took, a subconscious reaction to the burning in her body, stung her aching lungs and throat. Her muscles were aflame under her skin, spots blurring her already hazy vision.

The initial shock of pain was quickly overcome with frustration as she realised her memories were as blurry as her sight. Faded images of bodies covering the floor of the Great Hall, curses flying overhead and the overwhelming smell of blood and swear infiltrated her mind. However much bile the images brought up in the back of her throat, they maintained only glimpses into memories she couldn't even determine when were made. What day was it anyway? How long had she been out?

The silence of the room she had found herself in did nothing to calm the images slowly invading her already exhausted mind. The remaining – albeit small – part of her brain that still engaged with logic noted the intensity of the light; it was soft but clear, and it looked to be mid-morning. As her mind sharpened, so did her sight, and the high, stone windows and pale walls came into violent contrast. All too suddenly, the dots connected, and the combination of her surroundings and the soft bed below her made her realise exactly where she was... the hospital wing! She was still at Hogwarts.

Ignoring the screams of her aching muscles, she pushed herself from the bed. Judging from the way her knees almost threw her to the floor in protest and the sheer lack of inhabited beds, she must have been in here for a few weeks at least. The idea made her slightly nauseous; what kind of injuries had she sustained if she was bed-ridden and amnesiac was several weeks? Ones that even the expertise of Madam Pomfrey couldn't cure quickly? The thought of the old nurse made her stomach turn, much like thinking of anyone did, for there was the looming question as to whether or not they survived.

Steadying herself on the bed rails and good old-fashioned will power, she dragged herself over to the ornate door that towered above her. The floors still felt like they were moving about underneath her, and the walls were shaking from side to side. She said a silent prayer that she wouldn't have to combat the moving staircases to find help.

More memories pushed themselves into her weary mind; the phantom ache in her legs from running from Bellatrix Lestrange, the image of her wild black hair meshing with the red and green flashes from her wand. The ghost of Ron's hand within hers, which made her unconsciously grip her hand tighter. She remembered – all too clearly – falling to the ground, separated from everyone, corned by an unfamiliar Death Eater's wand. She remembered the blind panic and the fear before it all went black. She remembered them so clearly they threatened to wrap cold, dead fingers around her insides and force whatever scraps in her stomach back up and out.

Harry. Ron. She needed to find Harry and Ron. She needed to find Luna and Neville and Lupin and Tonks and Dean and Ginny.

Forcing herself to stand up straight, swallow the urge to hurl and get her head together, she braced herself against a wall and just _thought_. Once she got used to the unfamiliar feeling of standing again, she could easily find her way to the Great Hall, which by her calculations should be fairly cleared up by now. Alternatively, she could go to a teacher's office... maybe Slughorn, or McGonagall. One part of her desperately wanted to seek refuge in the library. Hermione smiled inwardly; this deep-rooted desire must be a sign she was on the road to recovery.

Somewhere near, she heard the mumblings of an approaching conversation. Her head was still too fuzzy to make out the owners of the voices, and they sounded oddly unfamiliar anyway, but she pressed herself to the wall almost on instinct. Months running from anyone who wasn't 100% an ally must have made her suspicious. She was about to push off the wall and ask where Harry and Ron was when one of the people said something.

"Honestly, Potter shouldn't be allowed near a Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom these days, he's such a bad influence."

Hermione felt a little indignant, and had half a mind to jump out and yell at whoever was insulting her friend as quite clearly, they were completely ungrateful to him. Still, anyone with such a point of view was unlikely to be sympathetic to her plight, so she chose to hide instead. At least she knew where he was.

When the sounds of their disgruntled voices were gone, Hermione quickly found her way to the rooms she knew he must be in. There was only a few, and there seemed to be quite a bit of noise coming from one of them. She giggled. Even after the Final Battle, it seemed her best friends were magnets for trouble.

Glancing down at herself, she noticed someone had dressed her in flannel pyjamas. She was embarrassed, wondering who undressed her to begin with, but thankful she wasn't wearing a muggle hospital robe, that would have left her backside bare for all the world to see.

Pushing open the door, she quickly found a class in progress – she would later look back and wonder why she hadn't asked herself why the saviour of the wizarding world was in a lesson – and her eyes went straight to the mess of black hair sitting at the back.

She felt the grin on her face stretch from one ear to the other and bounded over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He yelped, trying to turn around, but she hugged him tighter. It took a moment too long for her to realise this was not the reaction she was looking for. The members of the class were all strangers to her, regardless of house. Furthermore, there wasn't a Wealsey in sight. When Harry turned around, Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. Her best friend was staring at her... but he wasn't. She fell to her knees in front of the imposter, unaware of all the faces glaring at her, and stared at him. _The eyes_. Harry's normally emerald eyes were hazel, and his forehead was untouched by a scar. He looked younger too... not in age, but in wisdom. Harry had always looked too old for his age, but living through as many wars as he did would have done that to anyone.

She started giggling, manically, and cocked her head to the side. Placing a hand on the side of Harry's face, one which he flinched away from, she checked this was indeed a real person and not some ghost. Some part of her subconscious mind kicked itself, and her maniacal giggling stopped almost immediately. A scarless, hazel eyed Harry, in a room full of people she didn't know.

"What is your name?"

The boy in front of her did a double take, looking confused but slowly replied; "James. James Potter."

James Potter. This was impossible. Water gathered at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. This seemed to panic the boy more than anything, and he desperately turned to his friends for guidance, who had been, up until then, just staring in disbelief at what must have been a simply ridiculous display.

"No," she stammered. "you can't be... you can't be here, because you're supposed to be..." The word _'dead'_ caught on her tongue and she quietly thanked whatever higher power had stopped her. If this truly was James Potter, informing him of his soon-to-be demise would probably throw a time line out or so.

Glancing over his shoulder, she felt the tears fall down her cheeks as harsh realisation smothered her in a cruel grasp. Right next to him was a lanky boy, with sandy hair and observing eyes. His lower arms and face was littered with tiny scars, and unlike James, his youth was compromised by fatigue and pain. She silently wondered how many full moons he had to have endured so far. Next to who was undeniably Lupin, a small, squat boy with nervous eyes and fidgeting hands sat. Even in youth, he had round cheeks and Hermione had to resist very hard not to punch him. There would be enough questions as it was with her unexplainable display of affection towards James without her beating Peter Pettigrew unconscious. She was crying in earnest by now, slowly taking in the undeniable truth when her eyes fell on the last boy. Ragged hair fell to his chin, only partially covering his face which held the curious eyes that surveyed with an intensity that made her skin crawl, but not in the way she might have expected. It was full of concern and worry, and she followed his eyes to the blatant scar on her lower arm, the word **_MUDBLOOD_** permanently engraved in her skin. She had worn it proudly during the Battle, a sign she had survived. But here, surrounded by gossip-hungry faces, it was simply a symbol of shame, a sign she had been caught and she had allowed herself to be branded like a cow.

The stares of the boys followed her out of the room, some unknown force guiding her through the doors and into an empty hall, the only sound was her dry sobs and the growing noise of whispers. When she was clear of what was increasingly beginning to feel like a prison, she saw the force that had dragged her out was actually a very concerned looking Minerva McGonagall.

"My dear, what is it?" she asked. "What are you doing?"

"What year is it?" It came out as less of a question, and more of a demand, but the last thing on her mind was manners. It made sense now. A lot more sense. She didn't know how she travelled back in time, nor how she had seemingly travelled so far, but where she was grew ever clearer. Or, _when_ she was, more accurately.

McGonagall simply looked at her with a fallen face, as if she knew the torment that her next words would create within the already frail girl in front of her. "It's 1977."


	2. II

The walk back to the hospital wing was a blur. Her feet moved, one in front of the other, but it wasn't a conscious movement. Groups of students saw her, and while Hermione was aware of their piercing stare, she no longer felt it. She no longer felt anything. She was vaguely aware of McGonagall's constant reassurances that Professor Dumbledore would meet them in the hospital wing, that they would fix this all up as soon as she could talk to them and that the young lady who had arrived with her would be there too.

That made her head snap up. "What... you mean someone _came with me_?" she stammered incredulously.

"Why, yes." the older woman smiled. "She said her name was Ginny Weasley."

_Ginny!_ Ginny had arrived in 1977 with her, and although she didn't know how or why, she could feel more tears escaping her eyes. But, this time, they were tears of joy, because at least she had some string, a connection, a link back home. _And_, she thought with a shudder, _it wasn't in the form of a phantom replica of her best friend_.

When they arrived back in the hospital wing, the very end bed was taken up by an extremely large pile of books, and a thin, red-haired girl. Hermione could honestly say she had never been so happy to see Ginny in her life. When the other girl saw her, her face lit up, and the true extent of the worry that had previously occupied her expression became clear.

Bounding off the bed, she stopped a few steps before throwing her arms – gently – around Hermione. When she pulled away, she noticed Ginny was no where near as scarred as she was, although there was an abundance of light pink marks covering her body. Her arms looked like they had previously been torn to shreds, and a particularly nasty mark curved around from the base of her neck and seemed to disappear down her back. There was the remnants of bruises littering her entire body, from her face to her legs, the lower half of which were exposed by cropped jeans.

"How come you're nearly healed, and I'm..." her words faltered as she indicated the bandages on her arms and neck, still leaning on McGonagall for support.

"Madam Pomfrey told me it was because your wounds are there because you were cursed, I just got thrown around a lot." Ginny lowered her head, as if embarrassed. "I got hit by a cruciatus curse though, some idiot aimed it at a Death Eater and it rebounded and hit me straight in the chest. It's a good thing you found me, it was like it lodged itself in my body and you had to spell it out of me."

Hermione nodded, but found she had no memory of saving Ginny from a rogue curse. Actually, she found she didn't care, all she wanted to know was how they got here and how they were getting back. She opened her mouth to ask, but Ginny held up a hand to silence her, and ushered her over to the bed. "Dumbledore wants to ask you a few questions, and then we'll talk, okay? He just wants to check nothing got too messed up in your head."

Sitting down on the bed, she found the elderly professor sat opposite her, peering at her down from his half moon glasses. It was the most curious mixture of grief and relief, to be under his observation once more. She silently wondered if Ginny had told him he was due to die in a few years, but trusted the young witch enough to know not to mess with time lines.

"As I understand, Minerva has told you about _when_ you are, and I trust you know _where_ you are." he said, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation to have with a 17 year old. "It is also to my understanding that you have used time-travel before, so are aware of some of the consequences of using our most delicate form of magic?"

She nodded again. "I'm sure you are curious about the circumstances of your arrival, but before we get to that, may I just ask a few questions to gauge the extent of your memory loss?"

"Yes."

"Very well." he beamed. "What is your name and age?"

"Hermione Jean Granger, and I am 17 years old." Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes. She could navigate the castle and recognise Ginny, it would be truly odd if she couldn't even remember her own name, but she didn't voice her doubts.

"Wonderful. When did you join Hogwarts?"

"1st of September, 1991." She did a double take at her own answer; she wouldn't join Hogwarts for another 14 years.

"Ah, you're in the year above Miss Weasley?" he indicated Ginny behind him, looking worried. The two nodded, and Ginny explained how they all knew each other through being sorted in Gryffindor and mostly through Ron and Harry's friendship.

"Where were you in the minutes before you arrived here?"

"The Great Hall." When he looked at her further, she realised he wanted her to expand. "We were fighting, it was a mess... I remember getting separated, and then I got cornered and honestly, it all goes black after that."

"You don't remember anything else?" Ginny said suddenly, looking a little bashful to have spoken, but powering on anyway. "You don't remember saving me, or... what happened to everyone?"

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach, one that Hermione had been trying her very hardest to ignore, but the way Ginny said that... "_what happened to everyone_". She didn't need to be a healer to identify the symptoms of PTSD – bless growing up with muggle TV – and she imagined Ginny had been told not to divulge any gory details to her in case it got even worse. However, she had very much played her hand, and the harsh whisper in which she spoke gave away just enough.

"Did anyone else survive?" she asked quietly.

Ginny licked her lips nervously, and cleared her throat. "No. Harry and Ron got crushed when someone pointed a reductor curse at a wall. Bellatrix got Neville, but Luna jumped in front of a curse for him first." She cleared her throat again, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, but she swallowed them back. "I lost track of everyone else."

Harry and Ron were dead. Luna and Neville were dead. She doubted more than a handful of the Order made it out alive, and if Voldemort won, they wouldn't be for much longer. A strange sense of calm overwhelmed her. Maybe it was simply having the truth, and no longer having to wonder. Everyone was dead. It wasn't like that statement left anything to the imagination.

A strangled sob erupted from her, and she clasped a hand over her mouth, the eruption of the sound a surprise even to her. The calmness, misplaced as it seemed, must have been something like falling; there is an inevitability, so the mind simply blanks. But, everyone has to hit rock bottom at some point. Everyone lurched forward, as if to comfort her, but decided against it.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore's soft voice broke her from her daze. "if you would like, I can restore your memories. I assume you are familiar with apparation, and splinching? Something similar has happened to you. See, when you travelled through time, you were not fully conscious, but it was your mind that splinched. Magic can fix this."

She let out a humourless laugh. Why would she want to remember the deaths of all of her friends? It was, without a doubt, the weaker, cowardly choice, but damn her Gryffindor strength; she'd been strong for too many years. The pain inside her was simply from knowing. If she had to see those things and live with the images of her friend's dying and broken bodies... Well, a shudder went down her spine and her stomach threatened to turn on her. "No," she shook her head, an empty smile on her face. "anything else I need to know, Ginny can tell me."

"Very well.." he said, inclining his head. "It is, of course, your choice, but please know that if you should ever change your mind, I will be more than happy to help."

She looked up into the old man's face, a warmer, more genuine smile curved her lips. "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

He chuckled. "I'll have to remember that one, Miss Granger." Ushering McGonagall out beside him, Ginny and Hermione were left alone, the former giving a very quizzical look to her friend who was shaking her head and giggling at herself.

~.~.~.~

An hour later, Ginny had recounted the events that had brought them here. Apparently, after Hermione saved her from the cruciatus curse, she had been in no fit state to walk. Ginny, recovered, had carried her to Gryffindor common room, where several terrified first years were cowering, under the protection of some older students who Ginny didn't recognise. After tearing the girl's dormitories apart, she discovered a time turner.

"How did you get a time turner?" Hermione gasped when she was told. "I thought we destroyed them all."

"Nearly all." Ginny smiled coyly. "I managed to salvage one. Good thing I did, huh?"

After finding it, Ginny had wrapped the devises chain around both their necks, and started to rewind it. Ginny told her she was aiming for a day before hand, just long enough to warn everyone about what would happen so they could be better protected. Just as she did, a Death Eater barged in a shot a curse at them. Ginny shuddered as she explained this, the thought of how he managed to get unscathed past a room full of first years heavy on their minds.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Ginny choked out. "You were nearly unconscious, I was holding you up with one arm and holding the time turner with the other, I couldn't get to my wand... I just panicked! I put my arms up, not even thinking, and the curse hit the time turner."

That explained how they had travelled so far back in time, not to mention as to why they were here of all places. The curse must have disrupted the time turner, sending them back 21 years, instead of 24 hours, as Ginny had hoped.

Hermione settled down on the bed next to Ginny, taking her hand and squeezing it. "You've nothing to be sorry for, you got us out. Technically, nobody's dead, either." she said awkwardly.

"I should have done something... anything, just to stop it..." She was crying now, tears falling down her flushed cheeks, her chest heaving. In that moment, Hermione hated the war, Voldemort, the prophecy more than anything else. Ginny was possibly the strongest girl she had ever met – you would have to be growing up with Fred and George, she thought – and yet she was dissolving into tears because so much had been placed on her shoulders, even at the age of 16. This young girl, not even old enough to magic outside of school, was sobbing because she couldn't save her friends, as if it was her responsibility. War had destroyed the lives of everyone they knew.

Resting her head lighting on Ginny's shoulder, Hermione felt tears slipping down her own cheeks. They stayed there for some unknown amount of time, silently crying, clutching each other like lost children. '_Like_ lost children'... if that isn't what they were, what were they? At some point, they laid down in the bed, huddled in eachother's arms, just sobbing and trying to breathe. They had both lost so much, and now the only thread of comfort they could find was in eachother.

After some time, their sobs had faded out. "You should have seen the looks on the faces of the girls were appeared on." Ginny said quietly.

"What?"

"When we came here, we landed in the girl's dormitories... right on top of some third year, I think she's in here for shock. Two girls, one unconscious, the other screaming for help landed on her in the early hours of the morning..." The rest of the sentence drowned out in their giggles, which soon became fully-fledged laughs, causing Madam Pomfrey to look around the corner in concern.

"Girls, there is a group of gentlemen here to see you." the nurse informed them, the slightest hint of irritation in her voice. "They're being very insistent; shall I give them access, or shall _I just hex them_?" Her voice raised in volume towards the end of her sentence, obviously a thinly veiled threat.

They looked at each other in confusion, as they were yet to be born for several years, so it was unlikely they had many friends. Unless...

"Send them in, thank you." Ginny said before Hermione could protest. There was only one group of people Hermione could think of in this time period that were all male and could cause that much irritation in the staff members.

Sure enough, three out of four of the Marauders were stood in front of them, awkward grins on their faces.

_**A.N: The response to this story from only chapter is actually amazing, thank you so much! Should mention this is a primarily Sirimione fic, but obviously the death of everyone she loved is gonna take precedne tin her mind so give me time. Also, some people might think this reaches into the realm of GinnyxHermione sometimes, but they're my brotp, so it's all platonic.**_

_** I am looking for someone to do a cover for this, and anyone who feels so way inclined would have their art/blog/fics promo'ed until the cows came home. Just a cheeky incentive. J xo**_


	3. III

_**AN: You guys are literally incredible. I know someone asked for the how they will return, but this is going to be a fairly long story. It might be slow at times, but I want to keep it realistic. They're not just going to forget their lives and move on in 1977, and Hermione has only been awake for a couple of hours. Here, we get to properly meet the Mauraders, and you get a little insight into Ginny, because I love her, but I feel like I neglected her a bit because Hermione's easier to write as.**_

_19th March 1977_

In her first year, Hermione had battled a mountain troll with two boys that she had previously not even very much liked. In her second year, she had been petrified by a giant snake and then saved by a screaming plant. Her third year brought her face to face with a werewolf who was also her DADA teacher. In her forth year, she had watched her best friend fight dragons, grow gills and come out of a maze with a corpse. She had helped form an illegal defence league in her fifth year, and not to mention all the curiosity's in the Department of Mysteries.

Yes, over the years, Hermione Granger had seen some peculiar, terrifying and bizarre things.

She didn't think any of those things were as peculiar, terrifying or bizarre as James Potter, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black stood in front of them. For one thing, they were all dead. Secondly, any change to their present might change their – and therefore her own – future. Thirdly, Ginny had made exactly the same mistake as she did, and the subsequent stream of swear words following her discovery had been more than humorous.

Rushing to her side, Ginny whispered; "That's _James Potter_!" When Hermione nodded, she glared at him as if he was to blame for looking so much like her boyfriend. James looked a little taken back and confused, as well as ashamed (more than likely for something he didn't even know he had done) and she had to wonder if Lily had the same effect on him. Ginny and Lily were very similar in appearance, and character, from what she had heard. "But that makes that Sirius and Lupin, right?"

"Yeah, that would be Padfoot, Moony and Prongs." Hermione sighed quietly, wondering how they were going to come up with a cover story quite so quickly. With any luck, none of the poor girls they had landed on when they arrived would know what a time turner looks like, and so no one would figure out they were front a different time. Even if they did, she doubted anyone would imagine travelling so many years back in the past. Their only hope was to pray everyone thought they had accidentally apparated into the dormitories.

"My name is James Potter," a voice interrupted her train of thought. "and I- _we_ were wondering if you were feeling better. You looked a little..."

"Disturbed?" she offered with a humourless chuckle.

"Yeah." he shifted awkwardly.

She glanced at Ginny, silently begging for an answer for them. They couldn't very well say that she thought he was her best friend and his son, a boy yet to be born.

"Yeah, she's been comatose for a while. Messes with your mind pretty bad." Ginny offered lamely, not looking at them, but staring at the floor.

"How long have I been out?" Hermione gasped.

"Two and a half weeks, give or take." she shrugged. Hermione punched her in the arm lightly for acting as if being unconscious for so long was just a causal thing. "Ow! Not cool. I got bored waiting for you to wake up, I've been going to classes for a few days just to keep occupied anyway."

"You went to classes looking like that?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow, indicating her scarred body.

"You try being stuck in this room, quarantined with an unconscious friend." Ginny snapped.

An awkward silence descended on the group, as the girls furiously wiped away the last of their tears and the boys awkwardly shuffled around on their feet. Knowing what they knew about them, especially the teenage versions of them, neither Hermione nor Ginny was under the impression that they would be particularly keen on crying girls. Ginny herself was sick of crying. Growing up with half a dozen brothers made her stronger, and she rarely did cry. Her mentality had always been very much 'best of a bad situation', and in her isolation she had began to think about ways in which they could use this new lease of life to take down Voldemort. She'd seen Sirius fight, and she knew he was good. Harry had told her that his father was a skilled wizard too, and Lupin had been a teacher, so he must have been handy with a wand. She felt momentarily guilty about thinking about throwing this seemingly innocent group of boys into a war – much like she had been – but realised they would be anyway.

Hermione was in something akin to shock; she was very conscious of being sad about the deaths of her friends, but she didn't quite feel it, like she was watching her emotions from a glass cage. She had been fighting since she was 11, and although she never became desensitised to losing her loved ones, she was familiar with the feeling. Maybe so much had changed, she simply didn't have time to mourn in her head. She was sure there was a book on it somewhere.

_Books_! She whipped her head around to look at the pile of books Ginny had stacked on her bed, clearly doing research as to what to do in their new position. To her horror, it was quite clear that she was looking up time travel, and she quickly grabbed her wand from the bedside table and shot an invisibility charm at them, and they disappeared.

Ginny realised what she did and swore under her breath, muttering an apology. It made sense that no one could know they were from a different time; the consequences could change everything for everyone. The future might be even worse than it was.

"So," Lupin said, voice full of false cheeriness before one of his less tactful friends could ask what the whole deal with the books was about. "what are your names? I'm Remus Lupin, that's James, and that's Sirius Black at the end."

"Hermione Granger"

"Ginny... Bode." Ginny stuttered. Hermione knew better than to question why she had changed her name, but guessed it had something to do with Weasley being easily recognisable. Maths having never been her strong suit, Hermione couldn't figure out if they were likely to run into any Weasleys in 1977, but didn't doubt it was possible.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Granger and Miss Bode." James took a low bow, causing the two girls to giggle. "I shall make it my personal mission to assure you ladies live comfortably during your stay at our prestigious school." It was nice James had gotten over the initial awkwardness of their meeting, and the slightly arrogant personality she had heard so much of was shining through in bold colours.

"Ah, my dear friend, you need not worry about carrying the burden of caring for these two charming young ladies alone." Sirius leapt forward. Hermione recalled Harry telling her about seeing his father and best friend during Occlumency lessons with Snape, and how they egged each other on. Even with the knowledge that this sometimes proved cruel – especially for Snape – it was so nice to see Sirius with something other than forlorn irritation on his face. "I am Sirius, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." He gave an exaggerated bow in front of them, then took Hermione's hand and kissed it softly, winking at her and Ginny on his way back up. They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Lupin chuckled from behind his two friends, and Sirius and James had the decency to look a little abashed.

"Quite frankly, after nearly three weeks comatose, there is only one thing my heart desires." Hermione giggled from behind her hand, in a mock, upper-class accent. "Food."

There was a gleam in the two boy's eyes, and without a word these turned on their heel and disappeared. Ginny couldn't hold it in any longer and laughed even harder, while Hermione turned to Lupin, confused.

"They know I was joking, right?"

"Probably. But you've given them a competition to see who can steal the most food from the kitchen, so I hope you're hungry." he smiled.

The three of them sat back down on Hermione's bed – for Ginny's was still covered in invisible books – and sat in comfortable silence.

"So, I hope you don't think I'm prying, but why is it you're actually here?" Lupin asked after a while.

Ginny nodded slightly, indicating she would let Hermione do the talking. "Well, neither of us are particularly pro-Voldemort, and er... I guess the feeling is mutual." It wasn't a lie. It was vague, and it would have been true for a fair portion of wizarding Britain, but it would do. "Dumbledore offered a bit of a sanctuary."

"I'd ask why, but..." Lupin said, his voice small, even for him. His eyes lingered on her forearm; she'd forgotten about that damned scar.

"Yeah, Ginny's the same." Ginny let out a long sigh of relief; she chose the name Bode after one of the people her father told her about from the Ministry, and she knew he was too old to be at Hogwarts in 1977, but there was always relatives. Being a muggleborn cut all ties with any pre-existing magical Bodes.

"I'm not exactly on his list of favourite people either." the werewolf mumbled.

They fell silent again, not knowing what to say. They wanted reassure Lupin that being a werewolf wouldn't ruin his life completely without telling him what they knew, but they couldn't do that without raising suspicion. Although all the Marauder's were intelligent, capable wizards, Hermione knew Lupin was more level-headed, and therefore much more likely to join the dots before his friends. She made careful note to be careful around him.

The slightly more awkward silence was interrupted by a chicken wing dropping to the floor, several beds away from them. Lupin laughed, and a few seconds later, Sirius fell ungraciously to the floor in front of them, and James appeared a moment after, invisibility cloak in hand.

"There was no need to be rough." Sirius grumbled, picking up a bag of food that had fallen with him.

"My cape, my rules." James smirked.

Sirius muttered something under his breath about a stupid stag, and then plopped down on the bed next to Hermione, offering her a pie. She took it slowly, unnerved by this different, joyous Sirius, so unlike the one she had seen. Searching her head for dates, she realised it must only be a few years before he was thrown into Azkaban, and she shuddered. "Thanks." she smiled. "I was kidding, you didn't have to..."

"Nonsense. Any excuse to go and talk to the elves." James said happily, popping a small cake into his mouth. "We go down there all the time."

"Wait, they give you food?" Ginny laughed. She expected tales of bravery and wits as the daring pair used all their magical know-how to sneak food into bags and run away, undetected.

"Well, no." James chuckled. "Sirius smooth talks, I steal." Sirius winked again, before cramming another sandwich in his mouth.

Hermione tried to remain polite as she ate, but it was incredibly hard. She wasn't lying when she said all she wanted was to eat, because she hadn't had a solid meal in months, especially since living on the road with Ron and Harry often meant catching or picking what she could find.

"Yeah, I get the impression Sirius does a lot of smooth talking." Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Why, thank you, sweet heart." he grinned. She just glanced at Hermione, who giggled, and shook her haid. Clearly, he had missed her meaning.

There was a blissful moment of silence that followed. Nothing but the sound of their contented munching could be heard, and just for a second, everything was okay. They hadn't fought a war or been thrown into a different time zone. Harry and Ron were alive, and the boys in front of them were just friendly lads checking on the weird girl who disrupted their lesson. Everyone was alive, no one was in pain, or being tortured, or dying, or dead. They were simply eating stolen pies on a hospital bed. Of course, this feeling didn't last. As soon as Hermione became aware of it, her jaw tightened and her stomach turned. The food became hard to chew and impossible to swallow. The warm feeling of companionship was replaced with the dead grasp of guilt; guilt for forgetting them. She should have been crying, fighting her way back to save them. Instead, she was eating a cupcake.

Ginny saw her friend blanch before anyone else did. The boys were distracted by the mountain of food at their disposal, but the redhead saw the girl stop her movement and and swallow hard. She placed a subtle hand on Hermione's back, hoping to provide some small glimmer of comfort without drawing attention to her, something she'd hate. Hermione shot her a grateful glance and pushed the rest of her cake into her mouth with enthusiasm, although Ginny doubted it was genuine.

The boys stayed for about an hour, in which time Hermione calmed down a little bit, and stopped looking ill. Ginny found a genuine like for her professor's younger self; he was still anxious, nervy and a little bit awkward, but he was still cheeky and joked with Sirius and James. She also came to wonder just how different Harry would be if James had raised him, rather than the vile muggles; James was fun, a little arrogant and his flirting was verging on blatant and cringe-worthy. There was none of the modest, quiet boy Ginny knew in him. She recognised Harry's loyalty to his friends, ability to laugh in good company and obviously, the general appearance. But James wasn't Harry, not her Harry. Seeing the similarities – and the differences – made her heart pine for him in a way that was almost physically painful. From the very beginning, she knew one small part of her would always be saved for him. He was the only boy she had known who hadn't looked down on her, or treated her differently because she was a girl, or acted like she was wrapped in a protective charm. Tell-tale pinpricks of water appeared at the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them furiously. _No_, she scolded herself,_ you've cried enough._

Ginny knew she was a subject of great curiosity in Hogwarts; news of the two appearing girls had spread like fiendfyre, and while one stayed in the hospital wing under supervision and heavy cloaking charms, one was free to walk the school. Ginny sustained no particularly horrific injuries, and she hadn't been lying when she told Hermione that she had simply been thrown around a lot. Rubble and falling debris had scraped and bruised her, and while Madam Pomfrey had healed the worst of them, Ginny was happy to let most of them heal by themselves. Dismissed by the healer, and not content with hiding in the hospital for days on end, she sought out Professor Dumbledore. He told her, as a guest of Hogwarts, she was welcome to do as she wished as long as she did not disrupt the learning of others. He offered her a bed in the Room of Requirement, but Ginny declined, saying she would rather wait for Hermione to wake before doing so. Truthfully, she just didn't think she could be alone. As it was, Ginny went to sixth year classes and did the work, relishing in being able to do something. She ate in the Great Hall with the other Gryffindors, and did what little homework she had been set so far. But, when the day was done, Ginny came back to the hospital wing, buried her face in her pillow and cried. She cried for her family, lost to her, for Harry, dead, and for her old life, never to be regained. So, no. No more crying, she promised herself silently.

"Shit," Sirius laughed, looking down at his watch. "we need to go to Potions, we're already 10 minutes late."

"Slughorn will kill us if we're any later." James nodded, mouth filled with food. He swallowed it hastily, choking a bit. "Well, ladies. It has been a pleasure talking with you."

There was the unspoken question of whether or not they should return, and they stood, a little awkwardly, seemingly awaiting it's answer.

"You should come back, you know, if you want." Ginny shrugged. Hermione nodded, and the three boys looked thrilled, as if hanging out in the hospital wing with a couple of strangers had been the highlight of their day.

Sirius and James simultaneously sank into a low bow in front of them, and Lupin smacked them around the back of the head when they rose back up. They all promised to return, and half-ran out the room, arms around each other, laughing. The girls watched them go fondly.

"Usually, I'd go to Charms now, but honestly, all I want to do is read those." Ginny sighed, pointing at the invisible pile of books. "Wanna help? Honestly, some of it so complicated... I'm just saying, it helps take your mind off it."

"Should we though?" Hermione groaned. "Take out minds off it?"

"We'll never go home and help if we don't."

Hermione agreed, and held her hand out, and Ginny grinned as she put a book down in it. "Professor Dumbledore said we can move into the Room of Requirement, if we want." she said quietly. "Do you want to? I mean, we can't live in the hospital wing. It's weird."

"We should go there tomorrow." Hermione nodded. "I hate it in here. Too many bad memories."

The two silently fell into their respective books, the only sound the turning of pages and the muffled sounds of the outside world, softened by the cloaking spells. It was quite calm, and more than a little symbolic. The world was there, and they could see it just as they remembered it, hear all the noises they were familiar with, remember it's hills and walls and lakes and sounds. But the world they knew, knew nothing of them, and they were hidden.

In fact, more than a little ironically, it seemed what would once again pull Hermione's noise out of a book and Ginny out of hiding in the backs of classes was a young boy with messy black hair and his friends.


	4. IV

_**AN: Small mistake, I put the date of the last chapter as 19th March 1977, when it should have been 19th May 1977, sorry for any confusion!**_

_20th May 1977_

Hermione found herself alone once more when she awoke. It seemed the students in 1977 were much less accident prone than the ones from her time, as the hospital wing was almost empty. It should have been haunting, morbid even, but the room was almost beautiful. The cloaking charm that isolated her from the rest of the hospital wing was translucent, giving the room a soft, shimmering effect. Light streamed in from the large windows and reflected off the white beds and walls, and the whole room seemed to glow in the sunlight. It was all rather ethereal.

She stretched out, flinging the covers off of her and soaked in the morning sun. It hurt – quite a bit actually – but it was a good hurt. Like poking a bruise. It felt good to feel something. Yesterday, she had felt numb. Hopeless. Lost. Now, she had an objective, and it included pestering Lupin into bringing her any books on time travel that Ginny might have left behind. This would all be done under the pretence of the idea that the Death Eaters who attacked her were talking about some new time travel weapon, and _naturally_ she wanted to find out what it was. There had to be something in one of those books, but staying up to the early hours of the morning had only left her with no answers and droopy eyelids.

There was a note on Ginny's bed; _Gone to lessons, back after dinner to move to RoR, G x_

Well, she had the day to herself. The idea was slightly daunting, the prospect of being alone with her thoughts more than a little worrying, but she decided that Ginny was right. There had to be a way to get back, and she wasn't going to find it by spending all day moping and crying. Ron would probably snort at her anyway, and ask what she'd done with his girlfriend.

_Girlfriend_. She blinked. That felt weird to think about.

She shook the thought away, and picked up the first book on the pile that she hadn't read – still delightfully high – and opened it up. It was old, and the pages were yellow and dog-eared. It smelt of dust and ink and _bookyness_. The cover was faded red leather, the words _Magic & Time_ in stunning gold letters glittered on the spine. She ran a finger lightly over the first page, smiling to herself. This book brought together everything she loved about reading and books, drawing images in her mind of the home she promised herself she would own one day; small, cosy, plump sofas and chairs, lots of plants for air, and walls covered in books of every kind and size and colour. Of course, these images were quickly invaded by a tall redhead, hair still ruffled from sleep, only semi-conscious as he half-fell onto one of the chairs with a morning coffee and a winning smile for her. The thought of Ron made her unconsciously hug the book to her chest, resting her chin on it. It was bitter-sweet, to think of him, but she was going to fight to keep him. That made her smile even wider.

"Gosh, no wonder Remus is so taken with you."

Her head snapped up, towards the source of the voice. "Sirius. I hope you're not skipping lessons for me." Her tone was warning, but she still smiled when she saw him. There was something so incredibly likeable about Sirius; whether it was the easy smile or the laid back attitude, or simply that his face and character were unmarked by the perils of war, a welcome surprise.

"You wound me, I never skip." he grinned. "James got himself landed in detention, and I managed to get away before I got caught."

"No honour amongst thieves, huh?" she laughed. A proper laugh.

"Hey, it's the unspoken rule. Better one than two, three or four, right? Less points lost for Gryffindor." he shrugged, sitting down next to her on the bed.

"Dare I even ask what you were up to?"

"Me and James might have been doing some modifications to the prefect's bathroom." he smirked. "They've got way too many taps in there, you know? We thought, maybe adding some dye in with all those fancy soaps would teach them about moderation." He smiled innocently, but she could tell he was holding back a laugh.

She shook her head at him. More than once, James and Sirius had been compared to Fred and George, and she realised why now. It made her smile to think about the antics they would have gotten up to if they had all met; it would have been wonderful if James and Sirius – this James and Sirius, the joking, pre-war friends – could have seen the Weasley's joke shop.

"Anyway, someone came in, we ran, and I bumped into a house elf walking past and she offered to apparate me to safety." he grinned. "My smooth talking earns me favours with the elves, besides, Sandy loves me."

"Sandy?"

"Yeah, there's this elf in the kitchens who is a bit of a black sheep. She just randomly goes for walks round the school, and she wears these mad leather gloves..."

"Wait, she has clothes?" Hermione interrupted. "Doesn't that make her free?"

"Yeah, she's been free nearly all her life. Her old master was a bit mental and he gave her his sock collection, but she got bored being free, so now she just hangs out in the kitchens and gives me food and lifts." Sirius said happily, as if having this valuable ally was the best thing to happen since magic. "I'm pretty sure she'd smoke and listen to muggle rock music if she had the means."

"If she gives you food, why does James steal it?"

"It's funny to watch him try and be stealthy." Sirius laughed. Hermione joined in, and felt the overwhelming surge of nostalgia for her old friends. "Anyway, I thought you might be bored, but like I said, Remus has clearly found his soul mate in a fellow book-hugger..."

"No," Hermione said quickly. "it can all wait. I'll be on my own until Ginny gets back later anyway, and I guess I could do worse for company."

He beamed. "You say the sweetest things, darlin'."

"I mean," she carried on. "since James is busy, I guess you'll do."

He pouted, but pulled out a packet of cards from his robes and started dealing them. When he finished, she looked down at them and raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" she giggled, blushing a little. The cards were all depicted with underwear-clad muggle girls, hands wound in their hair, on their hips, down... She closed her eyes, cringing. When she opened them, he was covering his mouth with the back of his hand in a desperate attempt to stifle his laughing.

"I'm sorry," he snorted. "but I make do with what I've got, and er... they were funny when I was 15. And they pissed off my parents."

She shook her head. "What are we playing then?"

"Snap."

"Really?"

"I don't want to intimidate you with my amazing skills in poker, I'll ease you in slowly..." he shrugged. She rolled her eyes, slamming her first card down on the bed in between them. He caught her eye, grinning, and she just laughed. Worse company, indeed.

An hour passed, and their game of snap had gotten worryingly competitive, with them throwing down cards at an alarming speed. Any time a matching pair was put down, they would both yell, and they had at one point turned to dirty tactics. When Hermione saw she had a match, she quickly put it down before flicking another card at Sirius and winning. He called her a cheat, but laughed, and got her back by transfiguring her queen into a six. The game of snap had long been forgotten, and the pair had simply turned to trying to outsmart the other in the most ridiculous manner.

Hermione put down winning seven, and Sirius shot a silent _deletrius_ at her card, and it disintegrated into dust.

"That is definitely cheating!" she giggled. He shrugged.

"_Reparo_." he said confidently. The granules of dust stuck together, but the card was frayed, the picture dusty. He frowned, and poked it with the tip of his wand, at which is crumbled again. "Bugger."

Hermione burst out laughing, withdrawing her own wand, and firing the same spell. The card fixed itself, gleaming and pristine as if it had never been out the packet. "I'm pretty sure that's karma, you know?"

"Shut up," he muttered. "where did you learn magic like that if you didn't come to Hogwarts?"

"Beauxbatons."

This was another thing Hermione and Ginny had prearranged. Since they were both hiding as muggleborns, they couldn't both pull off home-schooling, and Hogwarts was out of the question. Hermione's parents had encouraged her to learn French as a child, and she had kept learning as a witch, in case it ever came in handy. Ginny didn't speak a word, so they decided that she had attended Beauxbatons for two years – a good excuse for two seemingly unrelated muggle born witches to have met – and then found someone to home school her after her parents decided they didn't like being so far away. Ginny had complained that this was a ridiculously complicated back story, and it was unlikely they would ever have to explain it fully, but Hermione liked to have her bases covered, and if anyone did ask, they couldn't both have different stories.

"Ah, I see." he nodded. "How come you're here then?"

"Seemed like a safe place at the time." she mumbled.

There was a pause, and Sirius looked at his watch, as he had been doing for the duration of his stay; she guessed he wasn't aloud to be late again.

"I have to go. Charms class." he muttered, before pausing. "Look, I don't know what happened to you, and if you want to tell me or talk about it or whatever, then cool, I'll listen. But if you don't, you'll just be the girl who had something bad happen to her, okay? And, that's... I mean, that's okay with me too, you know? Well, not okay, but..."

"I know what you mean." she assured with a smile. She appreciated Sirius trying to be sensitive, but it was rather funny watching him try and find the words.

"I'm just trying to say, I'm sorry, for whatever it is. And I hope you can get home, or wherever you need to go." He finished rather awkwardly, biting the inside of his cheek and staring at the floor. "You're just a good person. Good people shouldn't have to have stuff like this happen to them."

She opened her mouth to speak, and found that no words came out. It might have been the inarticulate but heart wrenching confession from the boy who had tried to beat her at snap, quite aggressively, for the last hour, or it might have been that last phrase; "_Good people shouldn't have to have stuff like this happen to them_." She looked down and swallowed hard, swallowing tears. She was filled with the overwhelming desire to throw her arms around his neck and beg him not to go after Wormtail. To never land himself in Azkaban, or to torture himself with guilt for something that was never his fault. To never hide away in his horrible family's house, or allow himself to become bitter and angry. To warn him of what he will lose and promise she would find a way to stop it, to help him, to keep him sane and sweet and happy. To save James and Lupin, and when the time comes, keep him out of prison. To tell him Harry will adore him, and that he will, no matter what, be loved. The Sirius she knew was impulsive, borderline insane and sometimes down-right immature. But whatever faults he might have grown to have, she knew she could never again hold it against him, not when she had this image to compare it to; a younger, happier boy, a mischievous glint in his eye most of the time, and a genuine smile on his face always. She could never hold his faults against him when she had physical proof of how much – of himself – he would lose.

She was aware he had gotten closer, and when he put a hand on her shoulder, he snapped her out of her internal monologue, and she knew if she tried to speak she would probably break down. She suddenly stood up, putting her arms around his neck. His arms came around her waist, if hesitantly, and stayed there for a while.

When they broke apart, she simply looked at him, and he looked at her, and some silent understanding passed between them. He nodded, and slowly walked out of the hospital wing. A single tear escaped her, rolling down her cheek, almost tauntingly slow.

She shook her head, ignoring it. She would ignore Sirius for the time being, and everything else. All she wanted to know was how to get home. Picking up the book she was going to read before he walked in, she reopened it, took a breath and started to read.

~.~.~.~

Hermione had read, reread, scanned and even took notes on three books since Sirius had left. So far, she had only found one account of time travel over many years, from 1899, where an Unspeakable had travelled back 492 years, trapped for five days, only to return and die... not before wiping out a large number of her descendants and causing physical changes to time that week. Hermione had had to resist the urge to throw that book, as it signified that she couldn't return home in case she accidentally murdered any family members, made Wednesday last five days and then died of old age in the space of a week.

Glaring angrily at her pile of scribbles, unusually messy and rushed compared to her usual notes, she dismissed them and walked around her area of the hospital wing. It was ironic, she knew, that she was so impatient, regardless of the fact that she very well may be able to return to her time whenever she pleased, and therefore she wasn't actually losing any time at all. It seemed that her current situation was mocking her, as even the word _time_ sounded wrong in her head, having been thought too many times. What an incredibly horrific field of study.

At that moment, Ginny appeared. She looked at the pile of parchment on Hermione's bed – she was sure it was disproportionate to how long she had been gone – and to her pacing room mate.

"No good news, then?" she sighed. When she received no answer, she took that to mean 'no'. "Is this what you've been doing all day?"

"Yes. Well, no. I played snap with Sirius." Hermione said, waving her hand in indifference.

"You played snap?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. She truly hoped her friend wasn't hallucinating, it would be just her luck to accidentally destroy the mind of the smartest witch of the generation.

"Yeah, he came by, we played snap, I cried a little bit I think..." she shrugged. "God, I just can't think how we're going..."

"Wait, he did what?" Ginny snapped, making Hermione look at her for the first time in surprise. "He made you cry? Gosh, I knew he was an insensitive little twat at this age, but honestly..."

"Ginny, calm down. He didn't _make_ me cry, he was just nice, and I cried a bit."

She opened her mouth to respond, but gave up. This situation was way too messed up to be complicated even more by Sirius Black, but she liked to think she was above engorging his nose, although she was itching to hex someone. She'd been banned from using her magic, in case the time travel had left "_serious scars on her mental stability, too far underneath the skin to be seen_" and her magic was unstable. It was a fair argument, but it didn't change how much she wanted to see giant bats fly out of Professor Dumbledore's nose. She was feeling hopeless enough without being on magic lock-down, too.

The thought about her (...old? ...future?) headmaster sprung a memory. "Oh, by the way, Slughorn mentioned that Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to us tonight, and that he'll meet us in the Room of Requirement at about eightish."

"Okay." Hermione said absently, sitting back down on the bed. "Shall we go then? It's not like we have masses of packing to do."

"Unless you count your damned dissertation." Ginny muttered.

Less than ten minutes later, they were stood at the door way of the Room of Requirment, and despite everything, they were in awe. They had, of course, seen on many occasions, it transform into a multitude of things, but when Ginny asked for a place to stay until they could return home, neither of them had expected something quite so...extraordinary.

The walls were a rich, deep wood, decorated in such a manner than one would be forgiven for thinking this was a royal suite. The carpet was soft cream, and so deliciously thick all Hermione wanted to do was take off her shoes and bury her toes in it. The far end of the room was raised up on a small platform, delicate stairs leading up at either end, and two ridiculously large double beds stood proud. They were covered in royal red drapes, the colour reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room, and thick pillows were piled high at one end. Several plush sofas and chairs were sat around an open fire place, the fire already roaring.

"Did you accidentally think about housing a prince?" Hermione laughed, dropping her books on the coffee table next to the fire. Ginny was at a loss, but opened a wardrobe that she had not seen at first to find it filled with robes and even some everyday – if slightly odd – clothes. She realised that they were probably from the lost and found, because she doubted anyone would go out of their way to collect a sunflower yellow tunic, with embroidered blue love hearts - although it was the 70's.

"This is insane..." she giggled, jumping on the large bed and flopping back on it. Hermione had to admit that after months of sleeping in tents for a few hours a night and living off of minuscule meals, that a warm bed and hot meals were pretty much the only things she could think of right now.

A loud _crack_ broke them from their happiness, and Hermione instantly drew her wand at the sound, only to lower it in confusion. A small house elf, with large ears and little leather gloves with the fingers haphazardly cut off did a little curtsey.

"Miss Granger, Miss Bode." the elf said. Before she spoke again, she dug a little folded up piece of paper from inside her glove, unfolded it and cleared her throat. "Mr Black would like to inform you he, Mr Potter, Mr Lupin and Mr Pettigrew are outside and if they're welcome, they bring food, although if not, tell the elf to tell them to piss off."

Ginny burst out laughing. Hermione stared incredulously at the little elf, who, to her surprise, really would have looked at home with a cigarette and the Sex Pistols playing in the background.

"You're Sandy, aren't you?"

"Mr Black is kind to Sandy, and Sandy has been told to make sure Miss Granger and Miss Bode are comfortable during their stay. Sandy is happy to help Mr Black." the elf dutifully ducked her head.

"Thank you Sandy." Hermione said, a little perturbed by the punk-rock elf. "I'll go get them." The elf smiled and disappeared with another _crack_, and she went to go to the door but Ginny grabbed her arm.

"Wormtail is with them!" she hissed.

"I know, but what can we do? We can't just tell them, it'd mess everything up!" Hermione whispered.

"He is the reason Harry's parents are dead." she snapped. "One of them is right outside, are you insane?"

"I know, Ginny, okay? But we can't open the door and say 'Sorry, not you Peter. We're from the future and we know you're going to kill James and Lily'. Yeah, that'd go down a storm."

Ginny huffed and went and threw herself down on the sofa. Hermione sighed, ignoring her, but knowing she had a good point. Harry was her best friend after all, and the man who pointed the way to his parent's deaths was literally right outside. But like she said, there was nothing they could do about it. Merlin alone knows what they had already changed just by being here, meeting them, talking to them... if they were to reveal where they were really from, it could throw everything out, not to mention, stop certain events happening and changing the future beyond repair.

She opened the door, and found two Marauders, bouncing on the balls of their feet, one looking slightly nervously at the floor and another piled up to his eyes with books. The image was perfected by the reappearance of Sandy, whose arms were laden with a tea tray, covered in cups and pots and a little tea pot. It really was a peculiar sight.

"Um, come in." she chuckled, as Sirius and James came bounding in, followed by a pile of books that seemed to be attached to Lupin, and finally Peter, who shuffled slightly. Hermione had to resist the urge to hex him, and could see Ginny was having a similar problem.

Sandy seemed to be struggling under the weight of the tea set, so Hermione gently lifted it out of her arms. "Thank you, Sandy. You're very kind."

"A friend of Mr Black's is a friend of Sandy." The elf bowed her head again.

"Ah, I see you've met Sirius's girlfriend?" James laughed. Sandy cast him a disapproving look before turning back to Hermione.

"Sandy is sad to inform Miss Granger she will not meet Master Potter's girlfriend... oh, yes. Because Miss Evans has a charming taste in men that does not extend to hooligans." Sandy said quite happily. Ginny slapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from barking out laughter, while Sirius, Lupin and Peter were all leaning on each other, chuckling.

"Hey!" James snapped. "Me and Lily have been together for a couple of months now!"

Sandy bowed her head in apology. "Sandy would like to congratulate Mr Potter on such a successful love potion. Will Miss Granger and Miss Bode require anything else tonight?"

The only thing Ginny required was an oxygen tank and a calming draught, as she wiped her streaming eyes, trying desperetly not to insult James anymore than he had already been at the hands of the impossible elf. Although she hadn't met many elves, Dobby had always remained polite even after he was free, and Kreacher... well, Kreacher wasn't polite ever. Sandy, on the other hand, was possibly her new favourite magical creature, and she wondered if Hagrid had met her.

"No, thank you, Sandy." Hermione chuckled. Sandy smiled and disapparted, leaving a room full of students laughing their heads off, and James, looking royally pissed.

"That's bloody elf." he muttered. He turned to Sirius. "You're a bad influence on her, you know?"

"I know, she's brilliant, isn't she?" he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Although, that was a new one, I love that elf." He pulled a bottle of Firewhisky from his robes, putting in between them all. It seems that sitting on the floor was favourable to the sofas, as everyone seemed to have congregated into a circle in front of the fireplace. James conjured a shot glass for everybody, and set about pouring the amber liquid into each of them.

Despite the somewhat gloomy circumstances, there was something heart-warming about the scene in front of them – although that might just have been the whisky. Hermione knew that the drink was stolen and the men around them were practically strangers, but maybe that was what made it so nice. The fact that four strangers would risk getting caught with stolen alcohol, out of bed at a late hour just so they could sit around and drink with two girls they barely knew was endearing at worst, and downright wonderful at best. While none of her, Ron and Harry's adventures were quite so... adolescent, it was strangely reminiscent of her time with them, in the common room and in the tent later in life. It was true breaking into the Ministry of Magic or Gringotts took away some of the friendly japing with the inevitable follow-up drink, and so she found this almost preferable in a way.

"Right, girls, listen up." James grinned. "Me and Sirius came up with this mental drinking game a year ago..."


	5. V

_**AN: For anyone curious, Sandy is based off of my pet rabbit, who was quite literally evil, if in a very motherly way. She would wake you up at 4am to be let out and when I was ill she groomed me until my arms were red, but she also liked opening doors and kicking me. I loved her nonetheless. **_

_**41 alerts from just 4 chapters? You guys are amazing, I never expected such a good reception for this story. I had to actually check if that was the right number, you astound me! Thank you so so much! :)**_

_21st May 1977_

"I suppose as a responsible adult and a teacher, I should tell you that you were incredibly immature last night and it was quite decidedly behaviour."

Ginny opened her eyes, testing the light levels for fear of accidentally blinding herself, or turning her already painful brain into one giant, throbbing, purple bruise. The voice that had disturbed her slumber was calm, almost sounding humoured, but it struck a cord somewhere in her mind. She sat up – a little too soon, judging by the shooting pain that travelled from her toes to her eyes.

"And, while Miss Granger passing out from alcohol consumption was far from humorous, I cannot tell you that Mr Black's efforts to cover this mistake up by using her as a ventriloquist doll was anything but so."

Ginny gingerly opened her eyes to find Professor Dumbledore sat on the bed opposite her, perched on the end so as to avoid Sirius's body, that was sprawled out across it. Forcing herself upright, she ignored the pounding in her head and the shooting pain behind her eyeballs and attempted to smooth down her hair.

"I'm so sorry, Professor." she said, her voice a lot louder in her head than it must have been out loud. "It will never happen again..."

"Miss Weasley, I need only take one look at you to know it will not likely happen again soon." he chuckled. "You look... what is that muggle phrase? '_Rough as old boots_'."

"Yes, it feels like someone is standing on me as well, funnily enough." she grimaced, trying to make light of the situation. "I really am sorry, I completely forgot you were coming round."

"You are 16 years old, and you have witnessed terrible things. A less responsible adult might tell you that you could entertain yourself with worse things than Mr Lupin's proclivity for the refill charm, for the time being." He observed her over the top of his half moon glasses, and she shifted awkwardly under his gaze. "Miss Granger is currently indulging in a bath, I suggest you do the same, and I shall return in an hour to speak with you about the matters at hand. It is a conversation you will want a clear head for." He paused. "Would you like me to levitate Mr Black out the room? Imagine the scandal."

Ginny shook her head, then regretted it. "No, it's fine. Sirius got into a bit of a competition with James and, well... I don't think anyone should touch him for at least another half an hour. I'll kick him out if he's still here when you arrive."

"Ah, the troubles of youth." he chuckled. Standing up, he made his way out, navigating his way around the curiously large collection of cushions on the floor, giggling to himself in the most entertaining of ways. As he made his way out the door, Ginny could of sworn her muttered "Lightweights." to himself, but her state of mind was far from able to even conjure the energy to be irritated at such an accusation.

A few moments later, Hermione left the en suite – a room Ginny hadn't even been aware existed until she did so – looking decidedly less _dead_ than her and Sirius.

"God, is he still here?" Hermione unwrapped the towel from around her head and began scrubbing at her tresses. Actually, Hermione looked much better than she had done since they arrived; her skin was still mottled with cuts, but they were healing, and the bruising had started to fade since she woke up. Her skin had regained some of it's colour; it was still pale, of course, but it was no longer so pale she looked like a corpse. Maybe a bath wasn't such a bad idea.

"Yeah. I'm going for a bath, Dumbledore's coming back in an hour to actually talk to us. Ask Sirius about ventriloquism, by the way." Ginny grinned and wandered off into the bathroom, leaving Hermione more than confused in her wake.

She felt cleaner. Not just the cleaner you might imagine after getting in a bath after months, but somehow purged of all the negativity she had been carrying around with her. As if scrubbing her skin raw was enough to shed a layer, and start anew.

There was, of course, the slight issue of a semi-alive Black in her bed. He was flat on his back, arms and legs unceremoniously thrown about in all directions, mouth slightly open. He gave a sudden jerk, and she had to stifle a giggle at such a canine gesture, half expecting him to start running in his sleep. Her memories were foggy, but she remembered James daring to claim to hold his drink better than Sirius, and the following competition verging on dangerous. James, Lupin and Peter were no where to be seen, but she vaguely remembered James complaining about a Heads meeting that morning, and Remus didn't seem like the sort of guy to overstay his welcome, and Peter probably followed. All she could do is hope Sirius didn't have any lessons until the afternoon.

"Sandy?" Hermione called out quietly. The house elf appeared before her.

"Does Miss Granger require breakfast?"

"Maybe, when Ginny gets out of the bath. Could you just get Sirius a glass of water? We only seem to have shot glasses."

Sandy cast a suspicious look at the crumpled form of Sirius on her bed, half the buttons on his shirt undone and his hair a mess. "Would Miss Granger like Sandy to apparate Mr Black to the astronomy tower instead?"

Hermione laughed. "No, the water will suffice." Sandy nodded, and disapparated, returning seconds later with a large glass of cool water. "Thank you, Sandy."

Placing it down on the bedside table next to him, she gently shook him. He grunted, but showed no sign of waking. Poking him in the ribs hailed little success, as did flicking his ear. After five minutes of various poking, prodding and shoving, Sirius still snored gently to himself and she gave up. It wasn't like he was in danger of overhearing anything in his current state, anyway.

Sitting down on the bed beside him, she picked up the glass of water and drank it herself. Obviously, the shift in weight – ridiculous, really, given that she had dripped water in his ear and he didn't even stir – on the bed was enough to jolt him awake, and he sat bolt upright behind her, the most delight expression on his face.

"Morning."

He glared at her. "Why are we awake?"

"Because it's gone 10am, Dumbledore is coming back in an hour and I need to ask you about ventriloquism."

"Fuck." he groaned, slamming back down on the pillow. "I'm gonna kill James, he knows better than to bruise my delicate ego, now look at me."

She giggled. "Sirius, in all fairness, I don't think a dragon could bruise your ego."

He grunted in response, possibly something insulting, but she didn't care, because she could walk in a straight line and that was something she had over him right now. However, he really did need to leave at some point. And she was truly curious about the ventriloquism. And the lingering smell of dog; she wasn't sure if that was just his scent or if he had transformed at some point in the night.

_Merlin, how many times did Remus refill that bottle_? she thought. _I can't even remember if there was a giant, spectral dog in my room_.

"Will you get up if I organise breakfast?"

At the word 'breakfast', his head turned slowly round to face her with what could only be described as puppy eyes staring right at her. "I would be in your debt."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes but grinning nonetheless. "Sandy?"

A loud crack made Sirius flinch and groan. "Yes, Miss Granger? I trust Mr Black has been gentlemanly?"

"Yes, he's been positively charming." she laughed. "I was wondering if you could bring us breakfast?"

"All three?"

"Yes, Sandy, thank you."

The elf disapparated again, and Sirius hauled himself up into a sitting position – a little slower this time – and rubbed his temples. In her time, Hermione had never quite understood the attraction to Sirius; he was handsome enough, but no more so than Lupin, and he was a rebellious troublemaker, but he wasn't anything special in her eyes. In this time, she almost saw it. It was something uniquely fun captured in his innocent youth that probably got him his way a lot more than he realised. She wondered if his time as Padfoot aided or created those puppy eyes, since the correlation was just too perfect, almost poetic.

"Sorry for crashing in your bed, hope you didn't mind too much."

"I wouldn't know, I was in Ginny's bed." she grinned.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Oh, shut up."

He smirked. "Where did everyone else sleep?"

"I think Peter fell asleep on the floor and Lupin I'm almost certain fell asleep next you..."

"Oh, wonderful..."

"...and James was with me and Ginny."

His head snapped up. "Bastard."

At that moment Ginny walked in, only a towel wrapped around her and Hermione was pretty sure Sirius's eyes actually bulged out his head a little. Seeing her friend's startled look, she clapped a hand over his eyes.

"Definitely a bastard." he muttered. "You know, I could jinx you off of me?"

"And I could immobilise you, strip you and hang you from the astronomy tower by your favourite body part." Hermione dead-panned while Ginny dressed, sniffling a giggle behind her hand.

He looked aghast. "Not my hair!"

It was too much; Ginny burst out laughing. At that very convenient moment, Sandy reappeared with three plates of a cooked breakfast. Sirius's head snapped around to the elf, his sense of smell apparently as keen as a human as it was as a dog. Sandy put them down on the coffee table, along with three cups of tea.

They all sat down, and devoured their breakfast in quick mouthfuls under the watchful eye of Sandy. Well, Sirius was under the watchful eye of Sandy, who apparently had decided to fulfil the empty role of mother for the two girls, judging by the glares Sirius had received for staying so late in their beds. When they were done, he beat a hasty retreat, with a promise to return, although with less alcohol and a vow to be out by curfew. Sandy ushered him out the door, telling him she wouldn't steal him any more food if he was going to be ungentlemanly to the guests.

Despite the house elf's determination to do it herself, the girls helped her tidy the room. Ginny quite liked doing it the muggle way; the monotony filled up the time until Dumbledore arrived, and there was a strange sense of satisfaction to be had when actual work was put into tidying. After smoothing down the covers on her bed, Dumbledore arrived. It was truly odd how a man so old could walk like that; it was less like walking, and more like floating, or gliding. In her third year, she had heard someone joke about Dumbledore actually being a ghost with no legs.

"Miss Granger, Miss Weasley." he greeted them, ducking so as to avoid hitting his hat on the door frame. "You may go Sandy." The house elf, although not actually working for Hogwarts, seemed to have an awful lot of respect for the headmaster, as she immediately ducked her head and left. It seemed she had much more respect for Dumbledore than Sirius, although they seemed to be more like brother and sister rather than master and worker.

"Curious creature, Sandy." Dumbledore commented, seating himself on the sofa in front of the fire. "House elves are happy to work, and perhaps centuries of enforcing it on them has ingrained it into their nature. In quite a unique contrast to other members of her species, Sandy deplores ownership, but it seems she is more than happy to work for someone with an agreeable character. Mr Black seems to bring out her rebellious side, but it seems you two have uncovered her maternal nature."

Ginny and Hermione sat down, refilling the tea cups and sitting quietly for the eccentric professor to speak. He might not have been their teacher any more, but his mere presence demanded respect.

"I am afraid I bring bad news, girls." he said solemnly. "Or good news, depending on what you want."

"I want to go home." Ginny said quietly. "I want to go back to before the war, so we can help, help prepare them."

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but that will not be possible."

Ginny's heart stopped, for more moments than should have been healthy. "What, at all? We're stuck in 1977?"

"No, my dear. The curse that broke the time turner and brought you here has damaged it beyond repair, I'm sure you're all too aware of the dangers of dark magic. You can return home, but only to the point in time that you left. It seems the curse has made the time turner lock on to that particular location and time, and you can only travel between now and that point."

What cruel joke was fate playing on them? They could return home, to their time, but only to a time where Harry and Ron were dead? Where everyone was dead? Suddenly, 1977 seemed a lot more appealing place to live. The girls glanced at each other; both of them had eyes filled with unshod tears, a thousand words on their lips that went unspoken, too many emotions running across their faces to determine which one took precedent. Ginny felt them all. The anger, loss, grief, sadness. Hermione had almost predicted that this would happen; it would have been too good to be true, just a simple spell and then they would be on their way home. Did home even exist? Or had the simple act of meeting James, Sirius, Peter and Remus thrown out the time line so much that home was even there any more? How much had they changed? Should they have told Dumbledore they were from the future, or was that a mistake too? There was too many questions to even comprehend in their minds, but one thing remained clear; they were stuck.

"Do either of you wish to return to your time?"

"No." came the simultaneous answer. It was horrible and selfish and cowardly, not returning, but since they had no idea what they would be returning to, it seemed like a good idea. They were leaving everyone behind, and soon, they would just be two more numbers in the fatality column on a bit of paper in the Ministry, assumed to be killed in the battle. Molly would grieve, Arthur would grieve... it struck Hermione how few people she had to grieve for her. Her parents had no knowledge of her existence, her friends were all dead, and any survivors would likely be more concerned with the death of the Boy Who Lived, rather than his brainy friend.

"I suspected as much." he nodded. "Let's keep the time turner to ourselves. If the Ministry thinks there is no way for you to return home, they have no choice but to keep you here. If they were to discover you could leave, there would have to send you back in the name of preserving the time line. At least this way, we can create identities for you."

_Create identities_. That was so... final. Like accepting that this was it, their fate.

"It may also be prudent to tell your new friends of the truth." he suggested lightly. "They are immature hooligans, but they are loyal. They would protect your secret, and offer sympathy for when you inevitably need it. It will also make it easier to maintain that friendship, if there is less need to lie."

Ignoring the urge to remind everyone Peter Pettigrew was far from a loyal friend as any wizard could get, Ginny had an idea. "Professor, since we are not returning to our time, can we use our knowledge of the future to protect people?" she piped up. "We know when certain things will happen... if we could, we could save lives and give warning and..."

"Miss Weasley, it is usually unwise to mess with time." he said sternly. "Although, since you are not looking to preserve any future, and the future you have described seems less than joyous, perhaps a little meddling might do everyone some good."

Hermione snorted; "_less than joyous_". What a joke. Then Dumbledore's words sunk in.

"You mean we can change the future? Literally?"

"I don't see why not." Dumbledore chuckled. "The Ministry would, of course, disagree, but I am disinclined to try and stop you from saving innocent lives."

Ginny's mind was racing. They might not be able to return to the future, but they could change it. They could make it better, and they could save Harry and Ron, Tonks and Lupin, Luna, Neville and everyone else who died. They knew where the horcruxs were, and they could destroy them. They knew where he would be, what he was doing, and they could do this. They could kill Voldemort over a decade before he should die, but that was a decade of undisturbed peace for everyone. Harry could grow up with his parents, have a family, and a life. Losing him would be worth it, just to see him, Lily and James by his side instead of her own mother as they boarded the train to Hogwarts. Ron would no longer feel threatened by his famous best friend. Her family would survive.

_Everyone could survive._

_**AN: Christ that was hard to write. I feel like it should be longer. **_


	6. VI

_**AN: This one is much shorter, hence the double update! I'll upload chapter 7 tomorrow, but I want to make some head-way on new chapters, so I might take a little longer to upload 8 onwards. Either way, hope you enjoy :) (PS: This is set exactly 20 years before I was born, which is weird to think about)  
**_

_21st April 1977_

It had been exactly one month since Dumbledore had told Hermione and Ginny they were unable to return to their own time. It had been exactly one month since the girls had put their minds to the task of stopping the war and killing Voldemort.

The overly large bedroom had been transformed; the walls were papered in maps, photographs, lists, diagrams and accounts. Everything Hermione and Ginny could remember about the wars had been catalogued, coded, filed and displayed. Certain events – such as the death of James and Lily – had been omitted, but there was everything and anything any enemy of the Dark Lord could possibly want. His known location at any time, close connections, sightings, deaths, where he his his horcruxs, how to destroy them... regrettably, Ginny had not been eager to slay the basilisk so they may use it's fangs, but at least they knew where one was should push come to shove.

That day also marked a month passing since Ginny and Hermione had been advised to tell the Mauraders of their true identities. Most of them visited every other day, usually with food and books. Lupin would often sit in front of their fire just to study quietly somewhere, and Sirius and James turned up at least twice a week asking for help with revision or essays. Their upcoming NEWT exams did not deter them from more sociable calls, and Ginny had lost track of how many games of poker she had been accused of cheating in. It seemed James did not take kindly to losing.

Despite their near constant presence, neither girl had alluded even slightly to how they really got there.

It wasn't that they didn't want to, but that sort of information required a certain delicacy that even Hermione struggled to comprehend. Telling them would inevitably lead to questions, and questions would lead to answers, and there was too many answers that she didn't want to tell just yet for there to be questions. Answers like how James and the love of his life will be struck down after his best friend betrayed him, or how Sirius will spend half his life in Azkaban, or how Lupin will go over a decade with no one but himself for company. How Peter will join forces with Voldemort, and guard James's son while Sirius's cousin holds Hermione down and tortures her. How Regulus probably already bore the Dark Mark, but would later turn his cloak and fight for right.

No, for those questions to be answered, they needed a plan.

The plan itself was quite simple, for nearly every bad thing that happened, the sole reason the Second War was fought, all came from a single catalyst; Halloween night, 1981. If James and Lily didn't die, Harry wouldn't become a horcrux, Sirius wouldn't be imprisoned, Lupin wouldn't be alone, Voldemort could be killed. Everyone would live.

That, however, didn't make it any easier to slip into conversation.

After hearing the door knock, Ginny cast a quick vanishing spell, and all the information that littered the walls disappeared. Hermione opened the door to find three slightly nervous boys waiting. There was none of the usual bravado or joking, and they all looked like they were prepared for a severe telling off. She had warned them they needed to have a serious conversation, and secretly wondered if that was the secret to taming the infamous Mauraders; ask them to be adults for an hour.

They filed in, one by one, sitting slowly on the sofa with their hands in their lap. It was quite disconcerting actually, and it made Hermione nervous to see them so unsettled.

"Tea?" Ginny asked brightly, filling five mismatched cups. Everyone took a cup and sipped it silently, before Hermione found the unbearable silence too much.

"This is going to be weird enough without you four acting like you're at a bloody funeral." she snapped, more in frustration than irritation. She saw the corners of Sirius's mouth twitch up at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him. It worked, because he chuckled, and put his cup down.

"Well, we are the Masters of Weird." he grinned. "Might as well start, Granger."

Ginny had timed it; 36 minutes later, Hermione had finished explaining all about the Second War, the time turner, the curse, what they were doing here. Luckily, she had remembered to remind them that they were working to help, to save everyone who was lost during both wars, so James managed to keep his breakfast down when she told him about his death. Although, his face lit up like the North Star when she told him he married Lily and had a son with her. Sirius had blanched when she told him of his impeding sentence at Azkaban for murder, although she was quick to mention he was wrongly accused. Lupin stayed quiet throughout, speaking up only at the end.

"Why did you tell us not to bring Peter?"

Ginny glanced at Hermione. "He plays a very... special role in our future. If he knew, he might not fulfil that role, and that could risk everything." she explained, not looking her friend in the eye. Ginny knew Hermione was itching to tell them to leave Peter, hex him, just get him to stay away, but their plan relied on Peter being the secret keeper. Having analysed every inch of the history they knew, they were only sure of Voldemort's position on one night; the night he killed James and Lily. They had also summarised that this would be one of the are occasions that he would be alone, or near enough, being too sure of himself to need back-up to kill two unsuspecting adults and a baby. Also, telling them of Peter's actions would more than likely put a target the size of a castle on his back, and Sirius very well might end up in Azkaban for a crime he truly did commit.

"And we don't?" James piped up, a little indignantly.

"Your death is the reason the Second War happens, because your son is born into that world and he fights from the moment he received his letter. Lily stood in front of Harry and took that curse for him, and that love protected him for 16 years, from the killing curse. And that is why he fought, because he had no choice." Ginny answered quietly. "Sirius, Lupin... we didn't even know you until 1993. I mean, you fought, both of you fought so hard, but by the end of the war, you were both..."

"Dead." Sirius said bluntly. "Typical of my bloody luck, first person to break out of Azkaban and then some bugger goes and kills me."

"It was Bellatrix." Hermione offered with an apologetic smile. "I've never seen Harry run so fast in my life, chased her through the Ministry like a cat out of scalding water, he even cornered her, but Voldemort showed up."

"Bitch." he shook his head. He paused, so tight smile appearing on his face. "Harry really did that? Chased a Death Eater for me?"

"He assembled a small army, broke out of Hogwarts on a bunch of Thestrals, broke into the Department of Mysteries and fought a lot of Death Eaters for you." Ginny grinned despite herself at Sirius's face. "Voldemort tricked him into thinking you were being tortured."He sobered slightly, but he still wore a lop-sided smile.

"Bloody hell, James... he's definitely your son." Lupin laughed. "Thestrals? And he broke into the Department of Mysteries?"

"Oh, there's no doubt he's James's son." Hermione smiled, turning to him. "You remember me hugging you like a lunatic when I first saw you? And Ginny?"

"Yeah..."

Ginny fished a photo out of her back pocket. It was slightly faded with time and wear, but it was still very obviously her and Harry. Every so often, she would stand up on her toes and press her lips to his cheek, and he would grin in a way that would make her heart pound against her chest like a woodpecker, a dopey smile on her own face. "Yeah, no doubting his parentage."

"Merlin... he looks just like you, James." Lupin said, looking over his friend's shoulder.

"Except his eyes..." Ginny said dreamily.

"He has his mother's eyes." Hermione recited, and both girls started giggling. It was a phrase they had both heard so many time, more than they could count. They remembered it making Harry cringe and shy away, but they knew deep in his heart that he was happy to have such a connection to his family.

"Hermione, what happens to me? I know I die, but what happens before that?"

She looked at Lupin, who was rubbing his hands together nervously. "You become a teacher, here, in 1993. And a few years later, you get married."

All three of their heads snapped up at the word 'married', and a wide grin breaks out on James's face, while Lupin looks shell-shocked. "But who... who would marry me?"

"Not telling."

"Oh, come on!" he groaned. "You told Sirius who killed him!"

"Yes, but that was so he could avoid it. I'm not telling you who you fall in love with, you have to find that out all by yourself." she grinned. She was also reluctant, given that Tonks was too young to have even started Hogwarts yet, and knowing how much Lupin deplored their age gap.

Lupin grumbled, but still had a grin plastered across his face. Ginny refilled their tea cups, still giggling as Sirius held up her picture of Harry against James and laughed at the similarities. After a while, they all got up and started walking around the room, reading what she and Hermione had documented over the last month. Sometimes they smiled, sometimes they cringed, sometimes they looked down-right horrified. When they came to the account of Malfoy Manner, Sirius glanced back at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes. She noticed him running a finger up and down his forearm, and when he saw that she saw, he mouthed "Bellatrix?" at her silently. She nodded.

He looked ashamed, as if his loose blood connection made him partly responsible for her atrocities. "I'm sorry." he mouthed at her, but she simply shook her head, smiling awkwardly.

Ginny saw the exchange, and joined Hermione on the chair, shoving her to the side so they could both fit in a tight squeeze. "Went better than expected, huh?" she muttered quietly.

"Could have been worse, much worse."


	7. VII

_**AN: As promise, longer update for you perf lil' guys. I cannot belive hiw many people have added an alert for this story, you make my heart cry.** _

_25th April 1977_

Hermione had decided to forgo classes while she stayed at Hogwarts; it wasn't like she hadn't already read most of the required books for the year, and Ginny had convinced her that it was unlikely she would fail the exams if she took them. As long as she kept practicing - and hid the terrifying amount of notes away from her less studious roommate, who had taken to practicing Charms on them - she was happy to take her NEWTs and was confident she would pass. If she was to stay in the past, she might as well get her qualifications. It'd be rather hard to get a job without them.

Regrettably, Ginny didn't feel the same way about her OWLs, and so Hermione was left alone for most of the day while her roommate was at classes. It gave her plenty of time to revise, go over her notes on both her upcoming exams and her mission with Ginny, but there is only so much documentation one witch can do before she gets very, very bored. Even Hermione Granger.

She laid back on the sofa, the fire flickering away in her peripheral vision, as she levitated random items she found around the room above her head in a circular motion. A balled up pair of socks, a ring of Ginny's, a lump of coal and a shoe danced above her head like some curious mobile. Lowering the ring, she noted that it was bronze, tiny engravings of twisting flowers and vines carved into it. Groaning, she flicked her wand, sending the items back to their original place. She briefly wondered if any of the staff members needed any paperwork doing when the door was pushed open. A familiar mess of dark waves was just visible over the top of the arm of the sofa, and the smell of dog reached her quick enough.

"Hey, Sirius." she called cheerily.

There was no reply, just the sound of the door softly shutting.

"Sirius?" She lifted her head to get a better look at him. "Hey, are you okay?"

He pursed his lips, as if trying to keep the contents of his stomach down and slowly shook his head. Quickly getting off the sofa, she rushed to his side. Sure enough, his face was pale, his whole body shaking.

"What, did someone get you with a slug-eating curse?" she chuckled nervously. He caught her eye and she shut up immediately. Gently placing her hands either side of his shoulders, she tried to comfort him. It was odd; so many years with Harry, who would simply rage and then work furiously, and Ron, who would fume until he was over it, left her at a loss to someone who was so obviously in some kind of pain. Ron would shrug her off, Harry would assure her he was fine, but Sirius looked like he was about to pass out any moment, and Hermione had no idea what to do.

"Sirius, talk to me." she asked gently.

"What happens to Reg?"

She swallowed heavily. Despite not knowing what had set him off on this route, she was reluctant to divulge the details of his brother's death with him. Regulus turning his back on Voldemort was the biggest streak of luck the Order had; they managed to retrieve a horcrux with no casualties on their side. Unfortunately, if stopping Regulus turning to the Dark Lord was what Sirius wanted, it meant he would never get the locket and they would have to go to the cave, something Hermione really didn't want to do. But, if they let him, he would die, and Sirius would be crushed knowing the truth about his little brother. Either way, it was a terrible choice to make.

"Hermione, you have nothing on him." he breathed, his voice barely audible. "On these walls, his name isn't mentioned once. I'm mentioned, bloody Slughorn is mentioned, even Aberforth is mentioned... what happens to him?"

"He dies."

Sirius blanched, and Hermione did a double take, unaware his face could lose anymore colour. There was a split second flash of insanity in his eyes that reminded her almost painfully of when she first saw him in the Shrieking Shack so long ago, and she instinctively reached for her wand. The madness was gone as soon as it was there, and his eyes shot down to where her hand was clasped around her wand at her waist, confusion evident on his face. When it dawned on him, he shook his head in silent apology and pulled away from her.

There was an awfully long pause before he spoke again. "Who kills him?"

"Inferi."

His head snapped up. "How the... what kind of messed up situation does he get himself into?"

Taking a deep breath, she sat him down on the sofa in front of the fire, and poured a cup of tea. It was quickly becoming a standard protocol; whenever anything went wrong, tea was made by the bucket loads. Over the past few weeks, the room had acquired a soft, warm smell to it that could only be because of the startling amount they went through. He took his cup gratefully, and sipped slowly. Taking another breath, Hermione explained how Regulus joined the Dark Lord, but changed his mind when he saw how badly he treated Kreacher, and the lengths he would go to in his quest to win. She explained how he drank the potion himself, and in his delirium, went to the lake. When she was done, he simply sat there in silence, staring into his cup, as if willing it to do something with his mind.

He smiled slightly. "Trying to decide if he's more Slytherin for turning his back or Gryffindor for doing something so stupidly brave."

Letting the air out of her lungs she wasn't aware she was holding, she gently placed a hand on the back of his neck, smoothing down the rebellious curls at his nape. He leaned back into her hand slightly. "I think he has more of _you_ in him than anything."

He turned his head slightly, looking at her with a smirk. "Not likely, I wouldn't do something like that to save that bastard elf."

"Don't be mean!" she laughed, half out of relief that he wasn't going to flip out and half out of amusement that Sirius's disdain for the family elf literally spanned decades. He grinned, shuffling over and resting his head on her shoulder, still nursing his cup of tea. Her arm fell around his shoulders, and she rested her cheek on the crown of his head. "I'm sorry. For not telling you, it's just..."

"You need him to get the locket." he finished her sentence.

"You don't know what it did to Dumbledore, getting it. Harry told me about when they, and... I just couldn't ask another person to torture themselves." she muttered into his hair. "Besides, two people need to go, but only one can go in the boat. A house elf, or someone not of age, and I'd feel terrible asking Kreacher, and I'm not asking a kid to do it. There's too much that could go wrong."

"Hermione, I'm not angry with you, I understand."

"But..."

"No, honestly. We may not know each other very well but I know better than to ask you to save one life over another, you're far too selfless." he chuckled, sipping at his tea. He lifted his head to look her in the eye, his own grey ones filled with honesty. "I won't let him go into that cave, he's my little brother. I don't care if he's got that crap burned into his arm, he's still my brother."

Now she understood what had made Sirius walk into her room and demand to know what happened to Regulus. "We'll come up with something, okay? I promise you." He smiled warmly at her, and his head resumed it's position on her shoulder. She pressed her lips to the top of his head softly. "I promise."

~.~.~.~

After recounting the story of how Regulus turned his back on Voldemort and retrieved the locket before dying - and a terrifying amount of tea - to the rest of the Marauders, it was quickly determined that they needed a way to get the locket back without Regulus dying, or preferably, anyone. With all of the facts on the table, such as the magical weight limit on the boat, the potion, the need to apparate and swim, and a bloody strong stomach, everyone looked more than a little nervous. Peter had joined them, and had been given a brief history of how they got here (Hermione recalled Ginny's not so gentle explanation of "We're from the past. We're trying to stop Voldemort. You're all dead." with a smile) and he, along with Remus, James and Sirius sat in their customary circle in front of the fire, parchment spread out in between them.

"This is ridiculous." James huffed, breaking the silence. "No one even knows about them, what's he so bloody paranoid about?"

There was a murmur of agreement. Considering all the obstacles they faced, this was looking to be a near impossible task. Only one of age wizard could fit in the boat at a time, and while it seemed like a good idea for two of age wizards to go one at a time, there was the issue of getting the delusional one back without him or her getting killed by the inferi. There was a distinct shortage of underage wizards that they could ask - and Hermione had shot down the idea of asking Sandy to do it instantly, as had Sirius - since no one knew who they were. Asking a stranger, a child at that, to go to a dark cave and drink a dangerous potion was not the best way to gain trust within the community, and without telling them where they were from, they'd be labelled Death Eaters in all of about 10 seconds.

Ginny had already pointed out that she should go, but Hermione told her she wasn't aloud, which was ridiculous in her opinion. She was a capable witch, the only one they knew under 17. She knew the location, knew how to get in and knew what to expect when she did. She was, in her own opinion, the best person to send.

"Could we send Kreacher?" she piped up.

"Too risky." Sirius shook his head. "He's too loyal to my family, I imagine my mother would know before we got back to the castle. He'd do it if it Reg asked him to, but my brother's got questionable loyalties right now, and we couldn't ask him to help destroy him, not yet."

Silence fell again as they all stewed in a vat of terrible ideas and flawed plans. Every possible complication had been calculated, but even when they were removed from the equation, they still came up without an answer. Sneaking out of the castle was easy, getting to the cave was simple, even getting inside the cave was easy, but getting the locket and getting out was the problem.

"For Merlin's sake, I'll go." Ginny huffed.

"Ginny, you shouldn't..." Lupin started, but she interrupted him.

"No, you know what?" she stormed, standing up and pulling her wand out. "You four, up."

The four boys stood up, watching her nervously. Hermione smiled, remembering Ginny's brother's fear when it came to their feisty sister. Even Fred and George had some respect for her dueling skills, and by the way she was shrugging off her jacket and raising her wand to them, that was exactly what she was gearing up to do.

"Draw your wands." she instructed. "Go on, if you think I can't handle myself in that cave because I'm 16, prove it."

They did as they were told, but James laughed. "You can't be serious?"

"No, that's me." Sirius quipped, but James ignored him.

"We're not going to fight you..."

"Ginny, I swear, if you set anything on fire in this room..." Hermione started, rolling her eyes, swiftly moving out of the way and to the side of them, taking her precious notes with her.

Everyone was stating their objections at once, and Ginny sighed. "_Pertrificus totalus_!" Her spell hit Peter square in the chest, and the room fell silent as they watched him drop his wand, straighten, then slowly fall to the ground. Hermione hid her smirk, and Ginny felt just a little bit satisfied as she watched his friends cringe at the loud thumping noise his head made upon impact with the floor, even if she would have rather it had been her boot.

They all turned around to gape at her. "_Stupefy_!" James fired the spell at her, but she deflected it soundlessly. He shot a series of spells at her, muttering them under his breath, but she flicked them all away from her with minimal effort. Even Hermione's mouth hung open a little; she was aware, of course, that Ginny was a more than talented witch, but the younger girl was barely blinking as she deflected curses off into corners of the room, none of them even coming near her. When Lupin joined in, the ensuing three-way duel resembled something like a muggle light show. Different coloured flashes of light were bouncing off walls, some missing the boys by inches. One shot by Hermione's ear, having been deflected away from her face by Sirius, who had appeared beside her.

"Tut tut Granger, shoulda had your wand out." he grinned. "I thought I'd give Ginny a fighting chance, not that she needs it."

"I don't disagree..."

Hermione was interrupted by Ginny. "_Protego_!" She cast the shield charm around Lupin, who had to duck as his own spell bounced off of it and nearly hit him in the face. Ginny quickly turned her wand on James, yelling, "_Incarcerous_!" Thick ropes appeared, wrapping themselves around James's body and legs, making him fall on his back with an awkward thump. Lupin, who was still recovering from dodging his own spell, got hit in the face with a bat-bogey hex, much to Sirius and Hermione's amusement. It was quite the brilliant scene really; Peter was still imobilised on the floor, James was wriggling around next to him, trying to get free of the ropes, and Lupin was trying to undo Ginny's hex as giant black bats flew from his face.

Feeling rather proud of herself, Ginny beamed at Hermione. "So, who am I going with?"

"Ginny!" James yelled from the floor, his head squirming out of the way of a rouge rope that looked suspiciously like it was trying to gag him. "Unspell us now!"

With a smirk, she flicked her wand at the boys, and all were free from her jinxes. Peter looked stunned as he struggled to get up, regarding Ginny with careful caution.

"Well, I'd like to see you do that to inferi." Lupin laughed. "I'll go."

"Sounds good..."

"Wait!" Hermione yelled, a sudden thought bursting into her mind. "Which one of you will drink the potion?"

"Me." Lupin said, not a second of hesitation. When Ginny opened her mouth, he held up a hand. "Me."

She sighed. "Then I don't think you should go." When he raised an eyebrow, she explained. "The potion makes you delusional, makes you relive your worst nightmare... what's your worst nightmare, Remus?"

He swallowed heavily. Hermione and Ginny hadn't told him they knew of his condition, it just wasn't something that ever came up. The need was never there. Lupin was uncomfortable discussing it back when they knew him, and she didn't want to make him feel awkward. However, she wanted her friend, trapped on an island with a delusional werewolf, even less. They didn't know what it would do to him, even if it didn't force him to transform...

"You know, don't you?" he said bluntly. "How do you know?"

"Well, you did transform in front of me."

"I _what_?!"

She cringed. "Yeah, when Sirius broke out of prison, we all kind of met up in the Shrieking Shack, it was complicated, but you transformed."

"Wha-?"

"Yeah, Sirius transformed and held you back but then you came for us but then you ran away because there was another wolf call, but that turned out to be me because I traveled back in time to save Sirius from some dementors. When you followed my call, me and Harry had to be saved by a hippogriff, which, by the way, we used to save Sirius from prison." she rambled, aware she hadn't breathed once during her explanation. Ginny was laughing, shaking her head. She'd heard the story before, of course, but it was funny when Hermione put it like that. What thirteen year old can say that's happened to them? Sirius was grinning, and Lupin looked like he might throw up.

"You broke Sirius out of prison on a hippogriff?" James beamed. "No doubt about it, he's my son."

"Yeah, wonderful." Lupin snapped. "Did anyone get hurt?"

She winced, remembering how Sirius's chest had been torn open by the werewolf. How Lupin himself bore the scars from that night until he died. How Ron's leg had been mauled, and all in the name of a traitor who got away and was sitting with his mouth hanging open, not three meters away. "No, no one."

He let out a breath, sitting down and refilling his cup. "James should go then." he shrugged.

"Why not me?" Sirius huffed.

"Because James has actually done his studying." Remus rolled his eyes, his friend groaning at him.

"Cool with me." James smiled. He and Ginny high-fived, in what very well might have been a paradox.

So, they ended as they began. Huddled in a circle, with a cup of tea in their hands, sipping quietly, while Hermione neatly wrote amendments to the plan on the parchment in front of them. Sirius and James were still testing Ginny on her past in dueling, and Peter had been slowly moving away from her throughout the night. Lupin was watching Hermione make notes thoughtfully, every so often refilling people's cups. The fire was warm, the tea was good and the company was better.

_It's not home_, Ginny thought, smiling at James as he blushed when Sirius described a particularly nasty rejection from Lily. _but it's a bloody good start._


	8. VIII

_**AN: Sorry it took so long to post, I'm so bad at writing action, I'm really sorry if this is awful. I'm so nervous about posting this, please tell me what you think of it! J x**_

_28__th_ _April 1977_

"You okay?" James asked, patting himself down in wonder. He was happy to admit that choosing to wear jeans might not have been a good decision, based on how much swimming they had to do, but Hermione's spell that meant he now completely dry, even his clothes.

"Yeah," Ginny ran her fingers through her hair. "shame that spell didn't make swimming any less tedious."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around her shoulders and ruffling her hair. Ginny had, as Hermione had also, grown close to (most) of the Marauders since they came to 1977. They were fun to be around, easy to talk to, capable wizards, and despite how much of their future they represented, they were a good way to run away from it. It wasn't exactly brave, but if Ginny was going to make it in this time, then she would need some friends. And James Potter, as it was turning out, was a damn good one.

A week ago, he had told Hermione and Ginny they couldn't live at Hogwarts forever, and that they were more than welcome to stay at his parent's house until they found their own place. They had told him not to be silly, and that they couldn't possibly intrude, but he reminded them Sirius had been intruding for months, and they couldn't possibly be more intrusive than him. Begrudgingly – and with the promise that Sirius would stay out of their room uninvited – the girls agreed to staying. James had grinned, throwing his arms around her and telling her that actually it was just nice to have a decent girl to talk to and he wasn't letting her hide from him when they left school.

It was bitterly cold in the cave, despite Summer nearing and their layers of clothing. It was grimy and black, the cold stone wet with sea water and the smell of salt thick in the air.

They walked for a little while, silent, the only sound the simmering crashing of waves, the howling screams of a stormy wind and their shoes on the cave floor. She followed the trail Hermione had all but carved into the inside of Ginny's skull, passed on from Harry. James kept his arm around her shoulder, and it felt ever so slightly like she was guiding him, him not having a clue where he was going. It was nice though, someone putting that trust in her. She leant into him as she stopped, pretty sure she was at the right wall. James rested his head on hers, and they stood, simply looking at the wall they would have to go through. They were up for it, happy to do it even, but it was more than a little daunting when you were looking at it. As they huddled together – for warmth and support – Ginny recalled a conversation she had with Hermione a few days previous.

"_Ginny, do you think you and James are getting a bit... you know?"_

"_What?"_

"_A bit too close?"_

_Ginny looked up, startled. "What? No, don't be... don't be ridiculous."_

_Hermione bit her lip awkwardly. "It's just, I know you're sad about losing Harry, but what if something went wrong and you ended up giving birth to him...?"_

_Ginny burst out laughing. "Hermione, stop it. I'm not having a kid with James, he's a friend. I don't want to replace Harry with his father, that's so creepy."_

It was true. Ginny had never wanted for friends, even male ones. Her family were her friends too, and sometimes she really didn't want for those friends, but James was so warm, it was impossible for him to not win you over. She pressed closer to him, sighing. He was the perfect Gryffindor; loyal, brave, smart... but he wasn't Harry. No matter how similar, no one could replace Harry. And James, knowing of her place in his son's heart, treated her like a little sister, messing her hair and play fighting.

She came back to reality, with a shudder. It wasn't just the sea that made this place cold; it was dark magic. She could feel it seeping into her skin, her blood, her brain. It made her feel dirty and unclean and tainted. The darkness seemed to pour out of every crevice and dingy corner of the place, dancing like smoke around their ankles, waiting to swallow them up. She swore silently under the breath as a light breeze swept by them, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

"S'pose we best start this then." he sighed.

~.~.~.~

"Do you think Dumbledore would kill us if anything happens to James or Ginny?"

Hermione looked up from her book. The air was mild, but she was still cold with fear. Ginny and James had disapparated maybe ten minutes ago, and she realised she wasn't really sure how they would be. The headmaster, who had been told of their plans, had given them permission to stay in Hogsmeade until the pair returned. Ginny had agreed to apparate to the village, but getting a precise location was difficult with a semi-conscious, delusional wizard with you, so her, Sirius, Lupin and Peter were patrolling around, waiting for them.

"No," she said simply, after a while of thinking. "but I don't think we'd get to take our exams."

Sirius looked anxious, having been pacing in front of her as Padfoot since their friends left. She'd been mostly ignoring his growls, random snaps at birds flying overhead and the occasional ear flick at any noise louder than a pin falling, stuffing her face in the book she brought instead.

"How can you be so bloody calm?" he snarled, but she didn't take the aggression to heart.

"Because I trust our friends." she shrugged. In truth, she was terrified. There was so much that could go wrong, but she didn't let him know that. "Listen, Ginny is a good witch. She has the water for when James dehydrates, and the ability to restrain him when he's losing it. We have Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore a patronus away, and I hardly think you or Lupin would let them apparate within ten miles and not be able to smell or hear them. Just, calm down, okay? Go back to chasing your tail, Sirius." She giggled at his indignant face. Shaking her head, she looked back down at her book.

She didn't get more than a few lines where a giant black dog leapt onto her lap, nuzzling her face and panting. Scratching him behind the ears – something he seemed to have a peculiar fondness for – she gave up reading and telling him to patrol his own bit of village, and let him settle half in her lap, half on the floor. He was warm, and it was comforting, having the omen of Death quietly grumbling in pleasure as you scratched his ears in your lap.

Hogsmeade was, when you weren't in immediate danger of being killed, quite beautiful at night. They were hidden in a little alleyway behind Honeydukes, on an armchair they pinched from the Room of Requirement. It was late, so there was nobody out. But the darkness was interrupted by gentle yellow lights in windows and from the candles to light the street. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and all the stars were visible for them to see. The ceiling of the Great Hall was beautiful, and a most incredible piece of magic, but the night sky above them was _real magic_.

Twenty minutes passed, and Padfoot hadn't moved. His ears stayed pricked up, his eyes alert, but he was still contentedly lying on her legs.

"Sirius, have you heard..." Lupin's voice trailed off when he saw Hermione absently stroking his best friend's head as she read a book, said best friend sparing him a filthy glance before leaping off of her and transforming back.

"No, nothing here." he said glumly. When Lupin only stared at him, eyes flicking to Hermione and back again, he sighed. "It's not what it looks like."

"What's a platonic head scratch between friends?" Hermione offered.

Lupin rolled his eyes and left again without a word. Hermione caught Sirius's eyes and they both started giggling hysterically. Despite the terribly grim nature of their mission, the chance to hang out in the little village on a Thursday night was nice. It reminded her of the stupid things she ended up doing with Ron and Harry, only with more dogs, and a paranoid werewolf.

Sirius shoved her to the side on her chair and squished himself down next to her, an arm draped over the back of the chair around her shoulders, peeking over her to look at her book. "Hogwarts: A History? Seriously, Granger?"

She elbowed him in the stomach, and leaned back. He rubbed her arm as she settled into him, her attention turning back to her book. "Actually, Hermione, I was wondering if I might ask you a favour?"

She chuckled. "I think I probably owe you a few of those."

He grinned. "Well, my uncle Alphard left me a bit of money in his will, and I can't live with James's parents forever, that's just sad. Can you come into London with me next week and look for a flat?"

"Sure. Why me?"

"There was this incident, with James, and a motorcycle and the muggle police... basically, I'm not allowed to leave Hogwarts with him. Next weekend is just after Lupin's time of the month and he'll still be recovering, and Peter's hopeless in muggle London."

She'd heard about the incident with James, Sirius and a flying motorcycle. She only shook her head, laughing. "Yeah, of course. It'd probably be worth me looking too, because I can't live with James forever either, not when him and Lily are due to start making my best friend any month now."

Sirius stared at her, shocked silent by her vulgarity. "Miss Granger, that is terribly unladylike. But a bloody good incentive to get out of there before our ear drums lose their innocence." She giggled, leaning back into the crook of his arm, bringing her legs up onto the chair and balancing her book against them. She could feel him peeking over her shoulder to occasionally read, usually followed by a snort or a scoff.

"How long do you think they will be?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know." she replied, biting her lip. He let out a breath, and rested his face against the crown of her head, and she felt his warm breath in her hair. It was oddly comforting.

They fell into silence again as Hermione read and Sirius kept an ear out, but the only sounds were their breathing and the unspoken fear that they might lose a friend tonight.

~.~.~.~

Ginny reached into the bag Hermione had packed for her with a smile. Sometimes she wondered if her friend was more mother than friend; the bag had a map of the cave, several bottles of water, some fruit, a knife, some potions that would heal basic wounds and some that would fuel fire and some medical supplies. James peered into the bag in awe, astounded by Hermione's undetectable extension charm.

"Do you have a small house we can live in if we have to spend the night?" he laughed.

She grinned, pulling out a potion and dripping some of it over the cut on her palm. It healed instantly, leaving only a faint pink mark in it's wake.

She was thrown back into reality when she glanced over James's shoulder. The cave was every bit horrific as she had imagined. The darkness was so thick that looking up yielded no answer to where the ceiling of the cave was, and the lake was a perfectly still, shining black mirror. Like a big red button, Ginny just wanted to throw a pebble right in the middle; to watch the ripples expand and dance away from the stone, to destroy the seemingly calm and serene surface. However, that might kill them both so she was hesitant to do so. James caught her staring, and slowly turned round, swallowing heavily.

"It's almost beautiful, isn't it?" he muttered quietly, as if not wishing to wake the creatures only meters from them in the depths.

"I suppose it is, a little." she said. "Come on, stay out of the water, it's about 20 meters this way."

And so they set off. Ginny was sure that if she hadn't cast the enchantments to make it known how far they had travelled, that she wouldn't have had a clue. Every inch they covered looked identical to the inch they had just left and the inch they were about to step into. It was impossible to judge the distance they had walked. James had grabbed her shoulder, wand raised to light their path, feet carefully inching away from the water's edge.

"Stop here." she murmured. She felt more than a bit daft, waving her hand about in front of her hoping for it brush by some invisible chain.

When her hand found it, she grasped on to it quickly, and shot a nervous glance at James. Tapping it with her wand, the air she appeared to grasping turned to bronze, slimy and cold, disappearing into the darkness of the lake. James swore under his breath; they were skin-crawlingly close to it now.

Tapping her hand again, Ginny made the chain slither through her closed hand like a snake, curling into a neat coil at her feet. Her chest was shaking with each uneven breath she took and her insides were cold and twisting. Gone was her false bravado as she stepped out of the waves with James, replaced only with blind panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. When the tiny wooden vessel appeared from the silky depths, they both took a deep breath, watching the boat sail noiselessly towards them.

When it reached the shore, the water dance inches from their feet, causing them to jump back. They waited for it to still before they climbed carefully into the boat, cautious not to let the small waves touch them. James got in first, before Ginny slowly slid in next to him. With bated breath, they waited, as if waiting for the inferi to clamber out of the water and claim them, or for the boat to burst into flames. A full minute passed, and the waters around them remained almost perfectly still, save for the natural ripples that erupted from the boat with their every movement. They remained untouched, unburnt and alive, which they took to mean that their plan had worked.

Ginny waved her wand, and the boat began to move. The chain followed them into the water, the only sound the clank of metal on metal on stone. They moved, painfully slow, both as nervous and paranoid as the other. Every so often, a single hand would slip from the water, fingers withered and slimy, causing them to clasp each other in fear, but it would disappear as soon as it appeared.

The glowing green light grew brighter as the boat sailed nearer, throwing green shadows across James's face and bathing Ginny's hair in a soft sheen that turned it a warm brown. It was cold, colder than ice but maybe not even in the physical sense. Maybe it was just daunting.

They lurched forward when the boat hit the tiny island in the middle, and Ginny threw her hands out to steady herself. James turned the face the basin, before turning back to her, face white as a newly cleaned sheet. He blew air out of his cheeks, before throwing himself up and out of the boat, on to the island. Shaking himself out, he circled the basin, glaring into it's contents with renewed fervour. Ginny watched him cautiously, knowing all too well how Potter men could get when they were backed into a corner. They were volatile at their worst times; snappy, impatient and desperate to do the right thing, regardless of personal cost. James had proved far too like Harry to be different to her late boyfriend.

She followed him, albeit slower, onto the island, her bag clutched tightly to her side. He huffed, panting heavily and eventually slowing down to face her.

"You have the water?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Okay, let's do this."

Ginny took the scoop, ornate and translucent, almost beautiful under different circumstances. Tentatively, she filed it with the potion, and placed it in front of James, who downed it in one. Within seconds, his face contorted as if he was sucking on lemons. Eyes squeezed shut, he stumbled, grasping at the basin to steady himself. The bones of his knuckles threatened to burst through the skin, nails digging into the stone. When he finally opened his eyes, they were filled with unshed tears which he wiped away angrily. Licking his lips and cringing at the taste, he nodded that he was ready to take more.

Taking a deep breath, she filled the scoop again, and the process was repeated, James's face twisting into a sight of pure personified pain, more and more grotesque with every mouthful. After maybe the third, he fell to his knees, and finally let out a wail of anguish. Ginny wiped at her own eyes, desperate to remain strong for him. He begged for her to stop, begged for it to end, and she wasn't even sure if he was talking to her or to some imagined villain tormenting him in his mind.

She briefly wondered if giving him a sip of water would be okay, but decided to wait until the potion was gone, unsure of how water would react with it, or if he would refuse to drink the potion in favour of the water that relived his burning throat and dry mouth. Steeling her nerves, reminding herself she had seen torture before, and that this was for the 'greater good' - damn Dumbledore and that blasted phrase - she filled the scoop again, and offered it to James. He took it, before swallowing it and crying out.

"Please, not her," he begged, eyes unseeing and mind rattled. "anyone but her…"

Ginny threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, half to offer some semblance of comfort, and half to angle his head up so he could drink more. "There's not much more, I promise, James."

He stared at her with watery eyes, his mouth hanging open in a silent prayer. "Not Lily, not Lily…" Her heart broke at the sound of his voice; desperate, lifeless, terrified. Bringing the scope to his lips, she tipped it up and watched as he grimaced in pain, but swallowed the poison nonetheless. She hadn't been lying, and there really was only three scoops left, and then they would be able to take the locket and return to Hogwarts.

"Come on James, not much longer, I promise." she whispered, fighting to keep her voice from breaking. "Just a few more."

He nodded, a scoop of potion in his mouth, looking as if he was struggling between the idea of swallowing it and spitting it at her feet. She let a guilty tear slither down her cheek as she covered his mouth with the hand that was behind his head, and forced it down his throat. He began shaking underneath her hold, trying to scream and fight back, but the potion had weakened him to the point that it was pointless. When his mouth was empty, she quickly filled the scoop again, and he drank it, his face tear-stained and his face without colour.

The second the final scoop of potion was gone, she pointed her wand at him and put him in a full-body bind. There was a split second where she feared her magic would not work, and she would have to carry the writhing body of her friend to the boat without letting him touch the water, but his limbs soon stapled themselves to his body and he fell stiff and silent to the floor. Grabbing the locket and throwing it around her neck, ignoring the nagging voice in her head that told her she shouldn't, she levitated his body into the boat and quickly climbed in. Waving her wand, they started moving towards the exit of the cave, and in several of the longest minutes of her life, they were back at the mouth of the nightmareish cavern, and plunging into the water.

~.~.~.~

Hermione didn't need the canine hearing of Padfoot to hear the _crack_ that indicated someone had apparated only meters away from them. Sirius's head snapped up, his senses just as keen in his human form, and he started sprinting towards the sound. He was yelling for Lupin, Peter and her only seconds later, and a truly horrendous sight reached her.

Ginny, struggling under the weight of James's limp body, was crying and soaking wet. Hermione could only guess her spell to keep them dry had worn off by the time they left the cave. Her hair was loose, and stuck to her face in dark strands, and James was making soft wailing noises that sounded awfully like "Lily".

When the redhead saw the boys running towards her, she dropped her friend on the floor in exhaustion and stumbled to her knees. James was getting louder as the discomfort of the freezing water and squeeze of apparation loosened his grip.

"Merlin…" Sirius muttered, cupping his friend's face to angle it up, examining him. James stared back, crying out for Lily, and it was unclear as to whether he could even see the man in front of him.

Hermione, on the other hand, went straight to Ginny who was suffering from the exhaustion of swimming with a dead weight, and the emotional trauma that any sixteen year old girl would experience if they had to poison their friend. Helping her to her feet, she got a bottle of water out of Ginny's bag and handed it to Lupin before putting her arms back around her and waiting for the worst of the shock.

Lupin tore the bottle open and brought it to James's lips, who drank as if he'd never had water before. In seconds, the first bottle was nearly empty, and Lupin quickly refilled it before helping him drink some more. James, growing stronger with each drink of water he drank, was getting more and more agitated, trying to get out of the arms of Sirius. He scratched at both his own and his friend's skin trying to get free, and he would have let out a terrifyingly loud scream had Lupin not clapped his hand over his mouth.

"We need to go," Hermione urged. "we're drawing too much attention."

The walk from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts had been a tedious one. Having sent her otter with a message to Dumbledore announcing their arrival, they group had sent Peter ahead of them in rat form, just in case anyone was out wandering. It was highly unlikely, with it being past 2am, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and Hermione could see Peter squirming at the sight of his best friend, screaming and clawing at his neck. She felt a small wave of sympathy for him; whatever he might do in the future, that's a the sort of caring you can't fake, and he obviously was very loyal to his friends... for now, at least.

Sirius and Lupin hoisted James up from the floor where Ginny had dropped him, putting an arm around each of their shoulders. Hermione cast a quick silencing spell on him, partly so they didn't draw any more attention to themselves, partly to spare them James's pained yells. He was a dead weight, and even for the strong pair of boys, he was heavy and cumbersome to carry, so they had to keep stopping to let Sirius and Lupin catch their breath. Every so often Ginny would stop them, allowing James to drink a little water to sooth his apparently burning throat and suffocating thirst. The normally short walk took them nearly an hour to make, and by the end of it, they were all exhausted, tired, cold, hungry and emotionally spent, having dealt with James's tortured state for too long.

Getting to the gates of the school had been an arduous journey, but the sight of Peter, Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall was more welcome than water to James. The headmaster and the nurse rushed forward, McGonagall hanging back, her face one of pure confusion and terror.

"Albus, if you could..." Madam Pomfrey said, not looking at him. Nevertheless, he seemed to understand, and waved his wand softly at James, who levitated into the air on his back. He seemed not to notice, and only cried silent tears and tried to swallow painfully. The nurse quickly waved her wand, muttering to herself, and he fell unconscious.

"Hey, what are you doing to him?" Sirius stormed.

"Knocking him out, or would you rather he were conscious through this?" Sirius shrank back at her accusing tone, and furiously wiped the tears that were seeping from his eyes.

McGonagall came to his side, placing a comforting hand at the back of his neck. They watched as Madam Pomfrey walked with James's still and silent body to the castle, eventually disappearing into the night.

Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "I trust this was not in vain?"

She shook her head. She saw the Transfiguration teacher approaching, so she left to join Lupin and Ginny with Sirius. They all seemed to shocked into silence, Lupin's face unreadable, Ginny still crying noiselessly, and Sirius shaking in what might have been fear, anger or anything else he might be feeling.

Ginny swallowed the last of her tears, knowing she had no right to be crying when James was in such agony. Vivid images of his face paling, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a silent scream entered her mind, but she pushed them away with everything she had. Hermione's arms came back around her, and although she hated herself a little bit for needing the support of her friend, she accepted it instantly. Maybe she could be strong another day.


	9. IX

_**AN: Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed and added alerts to this story. I wrote the first chapter on a whim, and I had no idea if it would actually work, and you all make it worth the endless rewriting and spell-checking. Big thank-you to **_**Rea558750** _**who reviews every chapter; people like you make my day. In fact, a massive thank-you to everyone who has taken the time to review! I'll respond to them at the bottom from now on in.  
**_

_**Secondly, I think it is very important that if you haven't read **_**Mrs J's Soup's** _**story, **_**One Hundred and Sixty Nine** _**that you do so now. Not only did it inspire this story, and no doubt, many others, it is perfectly written and just asdfghjkl. I think we should make it a rite of passage to read it when entering the Sirimione fandom. Also, she herself is just a wonderful human.**_

_28__th_ _April 1977_

Ginny and Hermione had taken to pacing the length of their room in the absence of the Marauders. While neither of the girls could be considered introverts, there was often too much thinking to be done to indulge in such pleasures like conversation. Sirius, James, Lupin and even Peter offered some respite from their increasingly complicated new situation, and while emotional dependency was hardly healthy, a sort of arrangement had been silently agreed. However, their friends were in the hospital wing and would surely go straight to bed after Madam Pomfrey had ushered them out of her domain, and so for the first time in days, the girls just sat down on their beds.

It was funny really, Ginny thought. They were changing the future, fighting an immortal dark wizard and living in secret in a hidden room in their old school. However, they were currently sat in an awkward silence in their own room, unsure of what to say to each other.

Ginny's face was still tear stained and red, her eyes bloodshot and her limbs aching from exertion. She was used to travelling by broom and Floo, and she hadn't been swimming since she was a little girl. She was fit and healthy - any decent quidditch player would be - but her muscles were burning and her bones felt like jelly. She knew it would be inconsiderate to ask for some help from her friends, considering one of them was in such a bad state. So, she would suffer. It was only muscle ache after all.

"I'm going to bed." she declared suddenly. Hermione looked up, nodding slowly, before shifting off her own bed and settling down in front of the sofa and making a cup of tea. Ginny smiled. In her time, Lupin had favoured chocolate as a cure for any emotional struggle, but here, tea was a staple part of any wizarding soldier's diet. Ginny climbed into bed, letting her head sink into the plush cushions, and she vowed to sleep for at least a day. Maybe two.

Hermione watched the fire; the dancing, flickering feathers of flame, the burning coals that glistened with sparks. When did everything get so insane? She knew this would happen, either now or twenty or so years in the future, but she had been able to ignore what had really happened. It was easy to let Harry play hero while she read any book placed under her nose to help. Ron was his right hand man and she just did the research. It wasn't like she didn't do the research now, but she had a terrifying thought she'd be on the front line even more than she had been recently.

She really shouldn't have been a Gryffindor, she thought miserably. She was smart; she'd had people tell her this every day of her life since she was old enough to understand the meaning of the phrase. She knew she was smart, and she knew that everyone whispered about how she was sorted into the wrong house after only weeks at Hogwarts. But she wasn't brave. Harry was, Ron was, Ginny was… everyone was brave, but her. Even Luna was braver that her, if a little eccentric. Or a lot, either way.

At some point, her tea had gone cold and she lacked the energy to reheat it so she put it on the coffee table and lifted herself onto the sofa. Her bed was yards away, but it was just _one too many_ yards away. On the soft material and cushions, her fatigue caught up on her with violent tenacity.

She was so tired, she didn't even notice the door opening, or the weight beside her on the sofa, or Sirius whispering her name softly. When he put his hand on her shoulder, she snapped out of her dream-like state and nearly jumped a mile when she saw him. He quickly put a finger to his lips, her scream of protest caught on her tongue, and he pointed towards Ginny's sleeping form.

"_Sorry_." she mouthed. He shrugged and leant forward, cradling his head in his hands. In the light of the fire, she saw how terrible he looked. He had obviously been crying, his eyes raw and the skin around his face mottled with red. His hair looked lank, his skin pale. It seemed that staying up for hours and watching James try and claw his eyes out had caught up with him too. He glanced towards her, saw her staring at him with something akin to pity, and shook his head.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have come. It's late…" he trailed off. "Just go back to sleep." He made to get up off the sofa, but she caught his arm quickly, dragging him back down to her. She brought him into a hug, and the second his head came to rest on her shoulder and her arms around his neck, something in him snapped. He started unashamedly crying, his whole body shaking with his sobs. He held on to her in an iron grip, his arms around her body tightening with every laboured breath he took. Momentarily stunned by the sudden outburst of emotion from Sirius, a man who made a joke of everything, she simply held on to to him until he stopped hyperventilating.

After a few minutes, he composed himself. Peeling himself off of her, he refused to meet her eyes as he angrily wiped his own. She waited patiently for him to pull himself together before speaking.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I just… I came back from the hospital wing."

"You don't need to apologise, Sirius." she said gently. "He's your best friend."

He shrugged dismissively. "Seeing him like that… I guess it's just a bit of a shock."

She rolled her eyes inwardly. Sirius seemed to be stuck in some tug-of-war between being completely incapable of showing his emotions, and being utterly overwhelmed by them. She knew it was more than a 'bit of a shock' to see James the way he did. Hermione was still reeling from the images of it, and she didn't have the bond that James and Sirius did. Huffing slightly, she shuffled closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. He moulded to her quickly, resting his cheek on her head, looping his arm through hers.

She felt her eyelids get heavier and heavier. While less than half an hour ago, she couldn't even consider the idea of sleep, now it was all she wanted. Her head lolled on his shoulder, her grip on him becoming looser. At some point, Sirius must have noticed, because he gently laid her down on the sofa. The thick, plush cushions felt like heavenly clouds underneath her exhausted form, and her mind clearly like the sky after a storm in seconds. She barely even noticed the feeling of him, laying down behind her, wrapping himself around her tired body and falling into sleep in much the same fashion as she did.

~.~.~.~

It was still the early hours of the morning, the sun still firmly hidden behind layers of darkness. Ginny was still asleep, the night's events having caught up with her in more ways that one. James lay, silent and still, in the same hospital bed Hermione had slept in only weeks ago, his chest barely moving up and down. Madam Pomfrey had said he would be fine, with some rest and some thorough healing magic.

However, for all of their planning, maps, lists and endless consideration into every conceivable problem that might arise, they failed to take one thing into account.

"Sirius Black, where the _fuck_ are you?"

Ginny sat bolt upright in her bed, Hermione stirring slightly next to Sirius on the sofa. At some point in their sleep, he had rolled onto his back, and she had rested her head on his chest, nestled softly against him in a silent gesture of comfort - for him and for her. He blinked a few times, before manoeuvring himself out from underneath her and standing up, his face suddenly losing all it's colour. The voice was young, female, not one either of the girls recognised, but it seemed to install some serious fear in Sirius.

Ginny and Hermione both got up, staring at the figure in the doorway. She was, for the most part, a stranger, with fiery hair and a soft face that was currently morphing with anger. But her _eyes_ were green as emeralds, and they were familiar to them both.

"I just got woken up, at…" she glared at her watch. "quite frankly an _ungodly_ hour, only to be told James is in the hospital wing, unconscious and poisoned!"

Sirius stared at her silently, seemingly unsure of how to respond to what was increasingly looking like a redhaired hurricane storming through their room.

"And then - this is my favourite part, Sirius, so listen close - I get told that this is all to do with some mysterious girls that I don't know, and you. I'm guessing you two are the mysterious girls," she said, glaring at Ginny and Hermione in a way that made even the usually headstrong redhead shy away. "but he is your _best friend_, Sirius Arcturus Black, so you better tell me right now what happened."

"You're Lily, right?" Hermione piped up when Sirius remained shocked into silence. Lily nodded, confused and angry at the new addition knowing who she was. "You should sit down, this might take a while. Tea?"

"No, I really don't care about tea right now, it's about four o'clock in the morning and Lupin has just had to inform of something I should have been told about days ago, so don't offer me tea like you're my damned mother." Lily snarled.

"Evans, listen…" Sirius started. He faltered momentarily when she turned her murderous gaze on him, but steeled himself. "This is some serious stuff, like, Ministry and Dumbledore and fighting the war. Sit down, let Hermione make you a drink and we'll explain it all, I promise."

Like a disobedient dog, Sirius's sharp tone seemed to calm Lily down, and she sat on the sofa where Hermione and Sirius had been asleep only moments ago. She glared, scathingly, at the fireplace, as it was to blame for all her problems. Hermione gently placed a cup of strong tea in front of her before scurrying back behind Sirius. Years living in the dorms with petty girls with nothing better to do than giggle about her hair and the way she could answer any question in class had given her a thick skin when it came to your everyday teenage girl, but Lily was scary. She wasn't the sort of girl to laugh at your bad skin, but she didn't seem to be the kind to hesitate to curse it off of you if the need called for it.

"Where's Moony?" Sirius asked, voice careful.

"He went to bed." she muttered. "What's going on?"

Sitting opposite her, he pulled the girls down with him. Taking a better look at Lily, it became clear that most of her rage had subsided, filtered through shock and exhaustion, and had settled into fear. She was shaking, eyes darting all around the room where Hermione and Ginny's research was clear as the hair on his head. "Introductions first, huh?"

Ginny cleared her throat. "My name is Ginny Weasley."

"Hermione Granger."

Lily took a deep breath and offered a hand to each of them. "Lily Evans, James's girlfriend. What are you doing here?"

As with the Marauders, the explanation of not only where and when they came from, but where Lily had found herself in twenty years took well over an hour. Her head shot up when they told her she married James, and tears leaked down her face when they told her they were murdered. The news that her only son, raised by her vile sister, very nearly turned out to be the saviour of the wizarding world came as a shock to her, and her face clearly paled. When she asked about Sirius, Lupin and Peter, Ginny lost her voice, shaking her head. The silence was answer enough. Hermione told her about how they came to 1977, and she knew the academic side of Lily's brain was in overdrive. She explained how gruelling it was, getting and destroying all of Voldemort's horcruxes, but with the knowledge she now had, it would be relatively easy. She explained how Dumbledore knew, as well as a few other teachers, and how they were willing to help. Lily looked positively overwhelmed, ready to pass out as she raked her hands through her long, soft, orange tresses, and let out a shaky breath.

"Everyone dies?" she asked quietly.

"Everyone." Hermione said.

There was a long pause where Lily's eyes flicked from Hermione, to Ginny, to Sirius. She looked terrified, but something steely glittered in her too familiar eyes. "What do you need?"

_**AN: If anyone can catch the Sherlock reference - I'm an unashamed Sherlolly shipper - I'll send you an internet cookie.**_

**Neverlookingbackfromlife**_**: Bless you for the onslaught of reviews, I was grinning like mad reading through them. I'm glad you like Sandy! And a brotp is basically an otp but friendship based, like Johnlock is one of my brotps because I love Sherlock and John but as really good friends rather than a couple.  
**_

**Rea558750**_**: I know! I felt so bad writing James being tortured, but it had to be done.  
**_


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